


The Benefits Of Careful Experimentation

by Slow_Burn_Sally



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, Blow Jobs, Crowley is a pine tree, Face-Fucking, First Time, Fluff and Smut, Friends With Benefits, Hand Jobs, I almost forgot about the spanking, I'll put more tags up as I remember things I promise. These boys have been BUSY, Idiots in Love, Love Confessions, M/M, Mutual Pining, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Slow Burn, Slutty Crowley, Smut, Spanking, light BDSM power dynamics, light role play, oh yeah and kissing, they're switches bitches, virgin Aziraphale (not for long though)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-14
Updated: 2019-12-14
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:35:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 27,604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21796207
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Slow_Burn_Sally/pseuds/Slow_Burn_Sally
Summary: I've always loved those "Friends with benefits who can't say how they really feel" fics, but I've never written one, and so... voila!Crowley is a piney pine pine tree. They start having sex pretty early on, but keep their feelings hidden for WAY TOO LONG.I hope you enjoy. My lovey beta reader emilycare may get to this at some point, but right now, it's just my precarious relationship to spelling, grammar and punctuation that's holding this thing together with duct tape.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 55
Kudos: 342
Collections: Hot Omens, Ixnael’s Recommendations





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I've always loved those "Friends with benefits who can't say how they really feel" fics, but I've never written one, and so... voila! 
> 
> Crowley is a piney pine pine tree. They start having sex pretty early on, but keep their feelings hidden for WAY TOO LONG.
> 
> I hope you enjoy. My lovey beta reader emilycare may get to this at some point, but right now, it's just my precarious relationship to spelling, grammar and punctuation that's holding this thing together with duct tape.

Crawly discovered sex with humans relatively early on. He’d been tempting a lonely widow to seduce her married neighbor somewhere in mesopotamia, long before the birth of Christ, when she’d turned her passionate urges on him instead. She’d sunk to her knees, and scrabbling with impatient fingers at Crawly’s dark robes, had taken him in hand and into her mouth faster than he could stop her. And then… oh then… he’d felt that heat of her wet mouth surrounding him, and he suddenly understood why humans seemed so Hell bent on rubbing themselves together all the time. The feeling of her eager tongue and lips against his swiftly thickening and lengthening cock was fantastic. It made him gasp and bring an encouraging hand to the back of her head, and made all thoughts of stopping and redirecting her back to the neighbor fly from his mind instantly. He came quickly, the sharp twist of pleasure in his gut pulling a surprised exclamation from his lips. 

_Well_ , he thought later, after he’d successfully gotten the widow together with her neighbor after all, (an act guaranteed to cause lots of social mayhem in the small village where they both lived. Which in turn would earn Crawly a commendation for sure) _Well..._ _that was a thing._

From then on, he dabbled a bit in sexual experimentation. Just dabbling mind you. He didn’t go full bore with it. Only fucking a few humans per decade, trying out different body types and configurations, noticing that he had a more than slight preference for those who also had penises like he did. He wasn’t sure if this were a preexisting orientation, or if it was simply due to the fact that the angel also had a penis. Or so Crawly assumed. 

_The angel_

The angel was becoming a _problem_. At first, Crawly had assumed that the simple minded creature was harmless and ineffectual. His crazy fluff of wild hair, like the foam on the tips of each new wave. His wide hazel-green eyes (or were they blue? Sometimes they seemed to change color by the second, but always containing within them something of the sea or the sky) had seemed too innocent and too gullible to cause Crawly any significant problems in the adversary department. The bumbling idiot had given away his sword for Satan’s sake! _Who does something like that?_

Looking back, Crawly blamed his own ego for the situation in which he now found himself. He’d thought of himself as a right flash bastard. A rock star of the Bottomless Pit. A Force to be Reckoned With. What sort of trouble could be caused by one angel, plump and smiling and soft on top of a wall in The Garden? Clearly She (God Almighty) was slipping a bit if She thought _this_ sweet tempered bumpkin would have the strength to thwart Crawly’s wiles with any reliability.

He’d been so very wrong. 

How was he to know that thwarting Crawly wouldn’t even be on the menu? How was he to know that they’d actually _like_ each other? That the angel would extend a snow-white wing to shelter Crawly from the new rain. That the heat of the angel’s body, like the heat of a small star, would warm Crawly’s cold, reptilian blood as he stood underneath said wing. How was he to know he was utterly fucked-in-love with the beguiling creature inside of a few hundred years of chance meetings? He didn’t know it. He didn’t expect it. Didn’t think it was even _possible_. And so it blindsided him like a ton of bricks, falling from the clear blue sky, directly onto his unsuspecting ginger head. 

_Demons can’t love can they?_ He’d remembered thinking as he’d watched the angel walk away from a meeting down by the banks of the Nile, several hundred years after Eden. Had watched those soft, broad shoulders and wide, white clad back receding down the muddy shoreline and had felt his heart nearly leap out of his chest with the urge to go after him. To grab him and pull him into Crawly’s arms and hold him tight. To whisper _Don’t go! Stay with me!_

It took him just a bit longer to realize that The Almighty had _not_ slipped. She hadn’t lost her touch in the slightest. Instead, she’d doomed him to fall in love with the opposition. Doomed him to lust after and long for the one being on earth he was tasked with thwarting. His side (Hell) expected regular reports on Aziraphale’s activities, and there were lots of dark threats about what would happen if the angel found out Crawly was tasked with spying on him. Let alone the sorts of mayhem the other demons would enact upon Crawly were they to discover that he actually _loved_ the silly creature. He was supposed to thwart and tempt and wreak mayhem. Not sigh and flutter and pine. 

And so, while Crawly occasionally took a human to his bed, it was always Aziraphale’s face he saw on the mattress beneath him. Always Aziraphale’s back spread out before him. Aziraphale’s cock in his mouth. Aziraphale who rested in his arms afterwards. Eventually, the fact that it was _not_ Aziraphale he was shagging grew depressing to the demon and he stopped taking human lovers entirely. 

It wasn’t until Rome that he decided to make a move on the angel. What else was he to do? He couldn’t pine and burn for the rest of eternity, and Crawley (Crowley now), was not good with delayed gratification. He was a bloody _demon_ for Satan’s sake. Demons weren’t supposed to keep themselves chaste and pure. And convincing Aziraphale to shag him, well, it was virtually _in his job description._ It was such a good idea in fact, that he even ran the idea by Beelzebub during one of their check in meetings to gauge their reaction. 

“The poor creature is clearly besotted with me” he said, injecting as much swagger into his tone as possible. “I think it’s only a matter of time before I bring him over to our side.”

“Exzzzelent job Crawly,” Beelzebub buzzed

  
“It’s Crowley now actually” Crowley corrected them.

“Whatever” replied Beelzebub, rolling their eyes. “What do you plan on doing to make the angel fall? Tempt him to steal some money? Tempt him to an act of revenge? Make him feel greed? Gluttony?”

Hearing the word _gluttony_ made Crowley have to double down on his neutral facial expression as charming images of Aziraphale, stuffing his face with figs floated before his mind’s eye. 

“Oh no. I’m planning something a touch more… _lascivious,_ ” he purred, giving a little thrust of his hips to illustrate his point.

“Lust?!” You’re planning on fucking him?” Beelzebub’s face, covered with boils and encrusted with old puss was the picture of surprise as they gazed disbelievingly at Crowley, eyebrows creeping up to their ratty hairline. “Oh you dirty old snake you! That’s _fantastic_!” Their face broke into a smile that made month old corpses look beautiful by comparison.

Crowley rejoiced inwardly at seeing Beelzebub’s approval of his plan. “Yup. Though I have to warn you, it may… take a while. These things take some repetition in order to stick. He won’t fall the first time it happens. Might take some repeat performances before Heaven notices and kicks him out for it. Might even take a few centuries in fact… maybe more than a few.” He didn’t want to push his luck, but he also wanted to buy himself a lot of time to seduce the angel, and of course he didn’t want to have to report that the first time hadn’t worked. Nor the five hundredth time if he had his way. 

Crowley knew fucking Aziraphale wouldn’t make him fall, even if Beelzebub did not. The angel had already participated in a multitude of deadly sins (including greed, gluttony and sloth) and nothing had happened. He would never have tried seducing the angel if having a little fun sex would have caused him to Fall from Grace. He had no desire to hurt Aziraphale, but if he didn’t get the angel into his bed soon, he was certain he’d lose his mind. 

Beelzebub bought the story hook line and sinker. Crowley watched, delighted by the evil smile that spread its way slowly across the demon’s face, revealing blackened, broken teeth as it went. “Crowley, you’re something else, you know that? It will be even better if you can prove to heaven that you’ve been shagging the fool for centuries. That’ll wipe the superior grin off Gabriel’s face. It’ll show him that not all of his precious angels are pure and innocent like he claims.” Beelzebub always got a strange glint in their eye when talking about Gabriel. Crowley personally thought that good ole Beez probably wanted to show Gabe a thing or two in the bedroom department, but he’d never mention that. It would be very unprofessional. 

Satisfied that he’d gotten adequate permission to try and shag the angel, Crowley had sauntered his way back topside to put his plan into motion. He of course had an ulterior motive that he knew would get him into a lot of trouble Down Below. He loved Aziraphale. Desperately. And a demon making love to an angel was not to be tolerated. A demon “bespoiling” or “dirtying” or “befouling” an angel with _sins of the flesh_ , well that was perfectly fine. Crowley was free to ruin Aziraphale sexually, but he certainly would _not_ be allowed to gently stroke his face or kiss him lovingly, or whisper sweet nothings into his ear while holding him warmly in Crowley’s arms. And he definitely, _definitely_ wouldn’t be allowed to tell the angel all the gooey, profoundly embarrassing things that he held locked up inside his demon heart. Crowley shut down his romantic yearnings quickly. He shoved them down into a little box inside of himself and locked them up tight, knowing that if Beez or Hastur or anyone else worth their salt as a demon discovered how much of an absolute wreck he was over Aziraphale that he’d be thrown into a very dark pit for the rest of eternity. 

All of that mushy stuff would have to go unexpressed. And that was fine. Who knows? The angel may not even be interested in sex at all. This whole plan might fall apart before Crowley got the chance to touch Aziraphale. But at least now, he had permission to try. 


	2. Chapter 2

Attempt Number One didn’t go off all that well. They’d been drinking in a bar in Rome, a few years after the death of Christ, when Aziraphale had come out with that borderline lascivious thing about _tempting_ Crowley to eat an oyster. Crowley knew an opening when he saw one, so he’d swiftly invited a blushing Aziraphale out for seafood and some more drinks at Patronas’ new restaurant. Aziraphale had agreed with wary eyes and a shy grin that made Crowley’s insides turn to liquid fire. 

After Crowley had knocked back an oyster or two (and Aziraphale had eaten the rest, slurping happily with his soft lips and bright pink tongue in a way that had Crowley squirming a little in his seat) they settled in for a few mugs of wine. Crowley waited until Aziraphale’s cheeks were glowing and rosy with alcohol consumption before broaching the subject of sex. 

“So… sex,” he began, never one for subtlety. “Ever had it?”

Aziraphale choked on his wine. Drops of red sloshed from the cup and his mouth to land on the front of his white toga and dribble down his chin as he coughed and spluttered. He wiped his face with the back of his forearm and shot Crowley a disapproving look. “Crawly!” he exclaimed, eyes round and shocked as he miracled away the stains on his toga and straightened himself up. “What a thing to ask an angel!”

“No then? And it’s ‘Crowley’ now angel, remember?”

“I’m sorry my dear. _Crowley,_ ” Aziraphale, even when being asked inappropriate questions by his sworn enemy was of course the type to apologize for his own social faux pas. He was so charmingly polite all the time. Crowley grinned inwardly with deep affection, but kept the expression from touching his face. “I will endeavor to remember your new name in the future. It will take some getting used to,” the angel continued with a small frown.

“It’s alright angel. So, never had sex before I take it?” He was eager to bring the conversation back around to where he wanted it. 

“Well.. no. Not as such” Azirpahale, looking mildly affronted, as if he’d been told he was not up to snuff, reclaimed his drink and took a gulp. His free hand was twitching nervously on the stone surface of the bar. Crowley smothered an urge to grab it and stroke it, or Satan forbid, bring it to his lips and kiss it. “Angels aren’t supposed to have _those sorts of feelings_.” His tone dripped with sarcasm in a way that made Crowley hopeful that maybe the angel might be chafing under Heaven’s restrictions in this department. 

“Ever been curious about it?” He asked, affecting a painfully casual tone of voice and lounging back on his stool as if he wasn’t intently interested to hear the angel’s response. 

“Well, of course” Aziraphale replied, and Crowley’s heart leapt in his chest. “I mean, why wouldn’t I be interested in something that our precious humans find so enjoyable. I’ve watched quite a lot of them engage in the act, in any number of… erm… positions. I’ve even made some very illuminating sketches and taken copious notes. All with their permission of course. It’s surprising how many of them don’t mind if I watch. They even seem to like it”

“Nnk” Crowley responded, crossing his legs to hide what this little speech was doing to his anatomy. “Angel, only you would approach sexuality from such an academic perspective.” he snarked, trying to cover up the fact that all the blood in his body was rushing from his extremities, headed southwards at a speed that couldn’t be healthy for his human corporation. “Haven’t you ever wanted to… I don’t know... participate?”

“Well,” Said Aziraphle, looking down, his cheeks flushing somewhat. “I _have.._. Erm… participated. Just a bit. I mean here and there. When one of the humans needed a _hand_ as it were.” Seeing the look on Crowley’s face and almost certainly mistaking it for disapproval, (it was not), he rushed to validate himself “Don’t look at me like that Crowley! I never disrobed or lay down with any of them, but I’m an _angel_ , and I like to be helpful, and sometimes, when all other hands were... busy as it were, I’d pitch in to help a little. Pull on this.. Stick my fingers in that... you know. Nothing too _involved._ Like I said _... J_ ust trying to be helpful.” 

Crowley could barely believe his ears. Or his luck. This was very promising indeed. Also, he was aroused to the point where sitting still was becoming difficult. He thanked Satan fervently, for perhaps the thousandth time for his adoption of dark glasses a few years ago. If Aziraphale could see the abject lust in his eyes right now, the poor angel would probably run away screaming. 

“Dear Satan angel!” he exclaimed, pretending to be scandalized, “You’re a veritable hedonist! I have to be honest, I’m surprised.”

“You shouldn’t be, Crowley.” Aziraphale’s pout was adorable and Crowley vowed then and there to poke fun of the angel as often as possible if that sweet little pout would make an appearance every time he did. “I’m an angel, and therefore very intimately involved in love. And sexual love is very much under the auspices of Heaven. The humans seem to think it was largely your lot’s doing, but to my estimation, that’s only the case when it is done with nefarious purpose, or without consent. If all parties are consenting and willing and all parties enjoy themselves, well, sexual congress is a beautiful thing indeed.”

“Sexual congress?” Crowley grinned into his mug at the angel’s oh so proper description of something not at all proper. “You mean _fucking._ ”

“Well yes, but I simply choose to refer to it by it’s more biblical title,” Aziraphale sniffed and refilled his mug with a wave of his hand. “Why do you ask?” He turned expectant, curious eyes toward Crowley, and the demon struggled to keep his face impassive. 

“Well,” he replied, slipping off his stool with a languid, serpentine grace and moving closer to Aziraphale. “I was wondering if perhaps you’d like to give it a go?” He placed a hand on the angel’s shoulder and let his dark glasses slip down his nose to show Aziraphale a peek at his yellow eyes. 

“Oh!” Aziraphale’s mouth went round and his eyes went wide at the sudden proximity of Crowley’s body to his own. He glanced sideways at Crowley’s hand on his shoulder and then up into Crowley’s eyes with a gaze so innocent and so startled that Crowley almost gave up on the spot. He stayed where he was though, carefully keeping his doubt and his nervousness from showing on his face, hoping that his dark toga hid his now raging erection from the angel’s sight. “Try… sex… with… with whom? With _humans?_ ” Aziraphale stammered out, his face growing pinker by the second. 

“Um, not exactly” Crowley’s voice was trembling slightly and he struggled to sound calm, when inside, he was dying just a little from nervousness. “I thought, maybe, if you and I could…” He let the sentence hang in the air between them and watched as comprehension dawned across Aziraphale’s handsome face. 

“Oooh. Oh. I see. With _you,_ ” The angel said carefully.

Crowley nodded gently and smiled in what he hoped was an encouraging manner, but probably ended up making him look like the hungry wolf he was, just beneath the surface of this flimsy facade. “Yeah,” he replied simply. “You know. Just for experimentation’s sake. Why not?” He waited, holding his breath for the angel to respond. 

“Oh..Crowley. I’m not so sure about that. If Heaven were ever to find out… I could be.. We could both be in a lot of trouble”.

Crowley was made hopeful that Aziraphale’s reservations appeared to be entirely centered on what their bosses would think, rather than say... being about how disgusting the thought of shagging a demon would be. 

“Come on angel.. It’ll be _fun_ ” Crowley purred as he leaned closer to Aziraphale, his eyes dropping to gaze longingly at the angel’s soft lips, parted slightly as they were in surprise. The angel’s breath was coming faster and his face was flushed charmingly, from wine and hopefully from Crowley’s closeness.

“I.. I don’t know. It seems a bit too… risky?” Aziraphale replied, his voice trembling a little, his hands gripping anxiously in the folds of his toga. He did _not_ however, look at all put off by the idea. Crowley could tell he was interested by the way Aziaphale’s eyes flitted hungrily over the demon’s face (the same look he gave to pears and figs and oysters), and by how the angle’s chest rose and fell more sharply. His eyes were flitting continually to rest on Crowley’s mouth in a very intent way, and they’d gone soft and fluttery. _He wants me back!_ Crowley thought triumphantly. 

Without waiting for the angel to protest further, Crowley boldly leaned in and placed his lips against Aziraphale’s. He felt the angel stiffen for a moment, but then felt his lips melt against Crowley’s and heard a soft little moan rise up from the back of Aziraphale’s throat. Crowley’s heart was singing, leaping, exploding out of his chest as he felt the angel open his mouth and welcome Crowley’s questing tongue inside. Crowley put his arms around Aziraphale’s soft shoulders and pulled him close and deepened the kiss, breathing in the angel’s delightful scent and tasting the cheap wine on his lips and tongue. 

After a couple of blissful minutes of snogging, however, Aziraphale pulled away with a gasp. 

“Crowley! We can’t. We mustn’t!” He exclaimed. He put his hands on Crowley’s narrow chest and pushed the demon gently away from him. He was completely out of breath and his lips were fetchingly flushed and wet with Crowley’s saliva. Crowley felt his heart clench painfully in his chest at the sight, wishing he could lean in and capture the angel’s mouth again. But he wasn’t a cad. He wouldn’t press past the angel’s boundaries. He leaned back, panting a bit himself, gathering his robes around him in the front to hide what this experience had done to his human corporation. 

“If you say so angel,” he struggled to affect a casual attitude, but was afraid he was failing miserably, due to the fact that he was a lust filled, love drunk mess. “I only thought it would be... illuminating as you say. Thought we could learn a bit together.”

“Crowley, I’m flattered.” Aziraphale replied, straightening his toga and squirming a bit uncomfortably atop his bar stool, giving a little wiggle of his shoulders that betrayed the fact that he was probably dealing with some embarrassing physical reactions of his own. “And please don’t mistake my reticence for a lack of interest. You _are_ quite...attractive. I’ve always thought so. But.. well. Wouldn’t it count as _fraternizing_?”

“Who cares?” Crowley responded, again, playing it off like he was suggesting a stroll along the Tiber, rather than something his heart had yearned painfully for for centuries. “It’s all fun and games, no? Your side won’t find out about it if you don’t tell them... And my side? They don’t mind at all.”

“They... they don’t?” Aziraphale was clearly doubtful of this fact.

“Nope! I actually cleared it with them before asking you. They couldn’t care less.” What he didn’t say was _they think by shagging you, I’ll get you to fall from Heaven and join me in the Bottomless Pit of Despair_ , because, well, that would likely not have gone over well. 

“Oh I don’t know Crowley. I think it's best if we remain… platonic.” Aziraphale replied, casting his eyes down, which was a good thing, because it meant he didn’t see Crowley’s heart breaking a little. “Let's just meet for drinks and keep things…” here he paused, clearly struggling with the best adjective to use to refer to a relationship with one’s sworn enemy whom one has just snogged enthusiastically on a bar stool over shared drinks. “...well... on the level,” he finished lamely.

“On the level. Yeah. Sure. I can do that.” Crowley mumbled, regaining his seat on his own bars tool and looking down into his wine to hide his bitter disappointment.

They chatted amiably about this and that temptation and this and that blessing for a while longer before Aziraphale excused himself to head back to his domus. Crowley wished him a polite good evening and watched with soft, longing eyes, hidden behind dark lenses as the impossibly beautiful angel picked his way daintily through the early evening throngs of the Roman market and out of sight around the corner of a building at the end of the street. Crowley’s black, demon’s heart went with Aziraphale, feeling as if it were being pulled out of his chest and had attached itself, shriveled and dusty and beating weakly, to the angel’s white sleeve. 

_Oh shit_ Thought Crowley. _I’m done for_


	3. Chapter 3

They didn’t meet again until the early sixth century, on the boggy marshes surrounding Wessex. Both of them were decked out in full suits of armor, and yet Crowley was still struck by how very handsome Aziraphale looked, even while wrapped up in metal plates with a massive helmet perched on his head. Aziraphale had been predictably shocked and dismayed to hear Crowley broach the topic of The Arrangement. Crowley had sighed as he’d watched Aziraphale storm off through the damp mist, as the angel had creaked and squeaked his way back to his own tent on a nearby hill, not far from where Crowley and his fomenters of dissent were camped. And so Crowley had been quite surprised when Aziraphale had politely cleared his throat and requested admittance to Crowley’s tent later that night, under the cover of darkness. 

“Come in!” Crowley called from where he sat, wrapped in as many furs and blankets as possible, on his little cot inside his tent. Aziraphale shyly poked his face around the flap at the entrance and gave Crowley a sheepish grin.

“I’m sorry I yelled earlier,” he said, raising the tent flap with his hand and stepping inside cautiously, as if walking into the den of a wild animal. “I was taken aback a bit by your suggestion.”

“Don’t worry about it angel. I shouldn’t have asked. That was rude of me,” Crowley replied, rising to fetch Aziraphale a mug of mulled wine from a decanter on a wooden table to the side of his tent. “Wine?” Aziraphale nodded eagerly and came forward to take the proffered cup. He had (thankfully) removed his many pieces of armor and now only wore a pair of simple, pale breeches and a white tunic under a very thick, woolen, fur lined cloak. He looked bloody fantastic. Rustic and handsome and pale and poetic, his white-blond hair curling fetchingly about his face. Crowley struggled not to stare. He’d (unwisely) kept his shades off, being that he was at home in his tent when Aziraphale had come calling, and it wouldn’t do to have the angel see the love beaming out of his eyes like twin, yellow, torches. He himself was in a simple dark tunic and breeches, his long copper hair pulled back with a leather thong.

The narrow cot was the only piece of furniture inside the tent suitable for sitting, and so rather than sit on the cold, damp ground, Aziraphale settled next to Crowley. Having the angel this close, feeling the heat of his body radiating out to warm Crowley’s side, was more intoxicating than the wine they were drinking. 

A small brazier blazed cheerily in the center of the tent, providing light and some heat, and Crowley had lit a few thick, white candles on the table where he kept his wine. Their glow and the glow of the burning coals in the brazier lit up Aziraphale’s face with yellow-orange light, making his eyes dark and luminous. Crowley gulped audibly. “What brings you over?” he squeaked.

“Oh, well, I felt sorry for how I reacted to your suggestion earlier. I shouldn’t have been so cross. I was simply... surprised. And so I thought I’d come and apologize. And also to ask you something.”

Crowley’s heart stopped beating in his chest. “Ask me what?” his voice was shaking _Satan damn it! Keep it together Crowley!_ He carefully kept his face as neutral as possible while waiting for Aziraphale to ask his question.

“You’ll think I’m quite silly really” Aziraphale hemmed and hawed. “And I know I come across indecisive a lot of the time…”

“Spit it out angel” Crowley didn’t want to be rude, but he knew how Aziraphale got sometimes when he was trying to express himself about something conflicting. 

“Well, back in Rome, you mentioned that we could perhaps…” He let the sentence dangle in front of Crowley, like a wriggling worm before a gape-mouthed, hungry fish. Crowley though refused to finish it for him, despite feeling his heart start up again and begin hammering in his chest. 

“You… mentioned that we could perhaps… experiment a little together?” Aziraphale finished at last, his brow crinkled charmingly with worry, his cheeks coloring. 

Crowley nodded tersely, striving to keep the joy and hunger from playing across his face. Struggling to control the wild rhythm of his pounding heart. “Yup. I sure did” he said, voice strained with the effort of acting casual. 

“Well, if it's quite alright with you Crowley dear, I thought I’d take you up on your offer after all.”

Crowley made an inarticulate sound in the back of his throat.

“I’m sorry Crowley. What was that?”

“I said sure angel. Sure. If you want to, I could see my way to doing a little _experimentation_. You know… for the purposes of experiencing all the human world has to offer, of course.”

“Of course,” Aziraphale replied, nodding. “Yes. It would be a shame to taste the food and drink the wine and marvel at all the wonders of nature and for me to never… um… taste of the pleasures of the flesh, wouldn’t it?” He was leaning closer to Crowley as he spoke, looking at Crowley’s lips again and Crowley hoped he didn’t faint before anything happened. 

“Oh yeah. Pleasures of the flesh. Very important. Have to have some of those.” Crowley was leaning in too now, closer and closer to Aziraphale. Soon, only a couple of inches separated their open mouths. They were both breathing hard, breath fogging slightly in the cold temperature inside Crowley’s hardly weather proofed tent. “Would it be alright if I kissed you?” Crowley asked, only to have Aziraphale lunge forward and press their lips together. 

Crowley’s brain went blank and his insides exploded in flaming heat at the feel of Aziraphale’s soft lips on his own. He’d dreamed of their first kiss far far too many times since he’d last seen the angel. He’d stroked himself to the memory so often that just thinking about it made him embarrassingly hard. He could replay the memory of it, the feel of the angel’s soft lips sliding against his own… the sound of that moan Aziraphale had let out as he’d opened his mouth to accept Crowley’s tongue, in incredible detail in his mind’s eye. It was as if it had just happened yesterday, rather than several centuries prior. 

And now, they were kissing _again_. And it was _good_. And the angel wanted to do _more than kiss._ The thought alone had Crowley straining painfully against the confines of his breeches as their lips blended together.

Aziraphale was clearly inexperienced in this arena. His lips were mismatched to the movement of Crowley’s lips for a few minutes. Opening too slowly or closing too quickly. He’d tilt his head at the wrong time and their teeth would click together. It was clumsy and awkward and _fucking adorable_. Crowley would gladly kiss an amateur Aziraphale over the greatest of humanity’s mortal lovers any day.

The demon slipped his arm around the angel’s shoulders and braced his hand against the angel’s velvety cheek and pulled him in a bit closer. He heard a whine of need in the back of Aziraphale’s throat and felt his whole body pulse in response. _Oh shit. How am I meant to keep my head through this? h_ e thought hazily, through the tingling, heart pounding waves of desire crashing through him. _This is far too intense and we haven’t done more than kiss each other._

Aziraphale interrupted his tumultuous thoughts by pulling back and breaking the kiss. Crowley, like the lovesick fool he was, leaned forward, eyes still closed, chasing Aziraphale’s mouth with his own, as if there was an invisible string connecting them and pulling him towards the angel. It swiftly dawned on him though that Aziraphale wanted a break. He opened his eyes to see Aziraphale, flushed and panting and gorgeous, looking at him with large, glowing eyes. 

“What.. what do we do next?” he asked, uncertain and shy and Crowley had to use every ounce of his self control not to spill his heart out right there. He was simultaneously surprised to realize, that while the thought of going further with Aziraphale was a highly compelling one, that he would actually be happy just to kiss the angel.. For perhaps a few more years. Just to get used to it. 

“Well,” he responded, his voice like velvet dragged over gravel, (because, hey, the angel _had_ asked what else they could do hadn’t he?) “Would you maybe let me.. Touch you?”

“Touch me where?” Aziraphale’s face was the picture of innocence and Crowley swiftly suppressed a fond smile at his naivete. 

“On your…your cock?” Crowley hazarded, holding his breath and keeping his gaze trained steadily on Aziraphale’s face, searching for flickers of fear or hesitancy that would tell him the angel had backed out and changed his mind. 

But instead, Aziraphale only grinned and blushed and nodded his head, saying “yes. Yes. That would be very... interesting. How would you..like to..” he raised his eyebrows questioningly at Crowley. 

“I’ll just start over your breeches and you can tell me if you want me to continue. Is that alright?” he asked, swallowing around a nervous lump in his throat.

Aziraphale nodded his assent. “Shall I just... lie down then?” he asked, and Crowley nodded and rushed to make room for him. Aziraphale lay down on his back on the cot, his head resting on a bundle of furs and looked expectantly at Crowley. Crowley quickly lay down next to the angel, on his side, keeping a little space between them. 

He took a moment to admire Aziraphale’s body, fully clothed, as the angel lay next to him. The broadness of his shoulders and the thick expanse of his chest. His soft belly was rising and falling with his breath, which was coming faster, and there was a very lovely bulge in the front of his breeches, a dim outline of the angel’s cock and balls that lay hidden temptingly beneath the layers of fabric. It appeared Aziraphale was as excited by this development as Crowley was. He was rock hard and straining against the tight cloth encasing his crotch. 

Crowley reached out a tentative hand and gingerly, carefully placed it over that bulge. He heard a sharp intake of breath and looked up to see that Aziraphale’s eyes were trained on Crowley’s hand. The angel’s mouth was gaping open softly and he was panting now. Crowley pressed downwards just a little bit with the heel of his palm, enough to feel the stiffness of Aziraphale’s cock through his breeches, and the angel let out a low moan and thrust up gently against Crowley’s hand. 

“Oh fuck,” Crowley breathed, unable to stop himself. 

“Are you alright?" Aziraphale, Satan bless him, was concerned.

“I’m fine angel.” Crowley gulped audibly, keeping his hand very still “Is this ok?”

“Oh yes!” Aziraphale exclaimed, a bit too loudly. “Or rather, it feels very good. Yes.” 

“Ok, that’s good” Crowley responded. Taking a deep, shaky breath, he dared to close his fingers and gently grip the shape of Aziraphale through the fabric that separated his hand from the angel’s thick cock, and Aziraphale moaned again. 

“Oh yes. That’s rather good. That... tingles” He said, his voice gone a little gruff. “Would you... use a bit more pressure?” 

“Gladly,” Crowley remarked and pressed a little more firmly, simultaneously rubbing upwards along Aziraphale’s shaft, towards the tip, and this time the angel cried out softly and thrust up with his hips again. 

“Oh my Crowley! That feels very very good” he gasped out, the surprise and awe in his voice making Crowley _ache_ deep inside. 

“I’m glad you like it angel. Mind if I help pull down your breeches a little? I’m almost certain you’ll be happy with the results”.

“Oh yes. Please do.” Aziraphale was even polite when being asked to take his trousers off. Crowley gripped the waist of the angel’s breeches and assisted in pulling them, and Aziraphale’s small clothes down to the tops of his thick, marble-white thighs. He left them there, in case the angel needed to pull them back up, or in case (all the forces of Heaven and Hell forbid) someone happened by to interrupt them. 

Aziraphale’s pale, thick cock bobbed free and Crowley almost came at the sight of it. He made a strangled noise in the back of his throat and sucked in a sharp breath and closed his eyes for a moment, struggling for control. It wouldn’t do to come in his under things before he even touched Aziraphale’s cock. 

“My dear, are you quite alright?” Asked Azirapahle, concern in his voice. 

_Sorry angel. The sight of your beautiful, delicious looking cock almost made me mess myself,_ Crowley thought.

“I’m perfectly fine,” he gritted out, then took a deep breath and focused on Aziraphale’s face for a minute. “You look really good is all” he said, cursing himself for how open he was being, but what else was he to do? He hadn’t been this close to something heavenly since he fell. “Let me know if anything I do is uncomfortable or you want me to stop, ok?”

Aziraphale nodded quickly and so Crowley turned his attention back down to the beautiful, extremely erect prick that lay throbbing gently against Aziraphale’s soft belly. He reached out with a hand that trembled only a little bit and dragged his fingertips gently up Aziraphale’s length. The angel arched up into his touch a little and made a desperate noise. A half-gasp, half moan that sounded way too good to Crowley’s burning ears. 

Encouraged by the reaction he was getting, he wrapped his hand gingerly around the thick hot shaft of the angel’s cock at the base and gave it a gentle squeeze, reveling in the way it filled his hand so beautifully. It was quite literally the best thing Crowley had ever grabbed ahold of in his long life.

“Oh _Crowley,_ " Aziraphale moaned out, soft and low, and so Crowley gave a tentative tug upwards with his hand. Aziraphale cried out, louder this time, and Crowley looked up to check on him and found him gazing down with dilated eyes at what Crowley was doing. Crowley started a gentle rhythm of strokes with his hand against Aziraphale’s shaft. The angel threw his head back and gasped, open mouthed towards the ceiling of the tent. His fingers gripped in the furs and blankets at his side and he pushed himself up against Crowley’s hand, fucking his fist with akward little thrusts of his hips. Crowley prayed silently that he didn’t die from lust before he could make the angel come.

Aziraphale stopped moving suddenly, and Crowley, fearing he’d somehow hurt the angel, tore his eyes away from the beautiful cock he’d been stroking and looked back up to Aziraphale’s face. The angel was looking at him with a curiosity underneath his arousal. “Crowley...“ he asked tentatively “what about you? Do you want me to touch you too?”

_Oh fuck yes._

“Yeah. That would be good... Thanks” Crowley managed to get out as he rolled quickly onto his back and pulled his breeches down as well. The cot was a bit narrow and so he turned back onto his side facing Aziraphale and let the angel look down at his exposed cock for the first time. It was longer and thinner and ruddier than Aziraphale’s. And of course it was as erect as it had probably ever been, a clear drop of precum glistening, like a jewel at its tip. The angel’s eyes grew wide as his gaze played over Crowley’s cock, and Crowley loved the hungry, awestruck look on Aziraphale’s face. He loved the feeling that he was desirable to this beautiful creature. 

“Feel free to explore,” he said, as he thrust his hips out a little to show himself off and allow Aziraphale unfettered access. The angel reached over on the side where Crowley was laying and tenderly gripped Crowley’s member in his thick, hot hand. Crowley groaned low in his throat and closed his eyes, concentrating on not bursting into flames. 

“Oh Crowley, you feel very good in my hand. That’s...that’s... quite a lovely c-cock you have.” Aziraphale said haltingly, and with that, the angel tugged on Crowley, pulling a strangled gasp from the demon’s lips. 

“Oh _fuck_ angel, do that again please. Keep doing that,” Crowley begged roughly.

Aziraphale immediately complied, tugging inexpertly but effectively with his hand as Crowley felt his insides turn to twisting, flaming sparks at the feel of the angel’s touch. Soon, though he had to still Aziraphale’s hand with his own. “You’ll.. Oh fuck. You’ll have to slow down there angel. I won’t last long if you keep that up.”

“Right. Yes. I wouldn’t want to make you… erm… reach your pleasure too quickly. I should slow my pace yes? Perhaps not squeeze so hard?” 

For some incomprehensible reason, Aziraphale’s cautious, incredibly awkward way of expressing himself turned Crowley on even more. “That’d be good angel, and you can feel free to... um.. narrate if you want to," he said, looking down in wondrous fascination at the angel’s soft, pale hand, encircling the flushed cylinder of his aching cock. “You know… tell me how things feel. Tell me if you like it. It’ll help with our… experiment.” 

“Oh, that’s a splendid idea!” Aziraphale chirped excitedly, as if Crowley had suggested they order more wine, rather than that the angel talk dirty to him while they had their hands around each other’s hard pricks. “Shall I… erm… continue then?”

Crowley nodded like he was trying to shake his head free from his neck. The angel proceeded to tug on him, this time going much slower, which had almost the opposite effect than he’d intended. It was even _more_ erotic. Crowley desperately distracted himself with renewing his efforts on Aziraphale’s cock, which wasn’t actually helping to distract him at all. 

“Oh my Crowley. Oh _yes_. Oh dear me, that is just _wonderful_.” Aziraphale, taking Crowley’s suggestion of verbally describing his experience to heart, was babbling in pleasure as Crowley stroked him steadily. Crowley loved every second of it. “That feels so good. All tingly and achy. I.. I feel very tight in my stomach. Very tight. And lower too, deep inside. I think. I think I might reach my pleasure soon.” He was breathless, gasping a bit between words, and his eyes kept fluttering closed with the sensations of Crowley’s handy work.

“Yeah.” Crowley growled. “Yeah, me too angel. Please... keep doing that… oh _fuck._ ” He increased the speed of his hand on the angel’s cock and leaned his hips into Aziraphale’s hand, fucking gently into the angel’s pumping fist. He felt his orgasm approaching swiftly, glimmering in the near distance, rushing towards him, and he chased it with swift little pulses of his hips into Aziraphale’s soft grip. “Oh fuck. Angel. I’m … I’m going to...” and just like that, he was clenching, exploding, pulsing. The sensation ripped through him, and he gasped out against Aziraphale’s neck, and then pressed desperate, wet kisses there against the angel’s soft skin as he spilled his passion on Aziraphale’s hand and his own lower belly. 

He’d kept up the motion of his hand on Aziraphale, even in the throes of his orgasm, and he felt and heard the vibrations of the angel’s voice against his lips “Oh _Crowley_. Oh sweet Lord. Oh dear. Oh my.. I.. I think this is -” the angel’s voice grew tight and the end of his sentence was swallowed up by open mouthed gasps as Aziraphale convulsed in Crowley’s hand and Crowley felt wet heat spill over his knuckles as the angel came. 

After Aziraphale’s shudders and moans subsided, they lay there for a stunned moment, breathing heavily in minor social discomfort mixed with (for Crowley) massive doses of oxytocin. Eventually, Crowley let go of his grip on Aziraphale’s now softening cock and waved the mess of their orgasms away with a flick of his fingers. “That was…” he began, and then found that he couldn’t find the words to express what he was feeling, so he continued to lay there panting instead. 

. 

“That was very very nice Crowley” Aziraphale’s voice sounded soft and reverent and Crowley looked over at thim to see him staring back, his eyes wide and luminous and intoxicated. 

“Nice?” Crowley asked, unable to keep a tiny sneer from entering his tone. 

“Oh don’t be a bother Crowley. You know what I meant. It was very good.” Here he paused for a moment, thinking. “Is that what it’s normally like?”

“Nope. I don’t think so. I’ve had a fair bit of sex with humans, and no, it doesn’t feel anything like that.

“Interesting” Aziraphale sounded thoughtful. _What kind of weirdo has a massively good orgasm and finds it ‘interesting’?_ Crowley wondered through a love drunk haze. He cuddled closer to Aziraphale, reveling in post coital bliss. 

“Whatever you say angel. Just give me roughly seven minutes and we can do it again.”

The angel’s next words though cut him right to the core.

“Oh but Crowley, we can never do that again”

_What??_

“What?” Crowley’s gut clenched in dread and he felt the icy fingers of fear creeping up the back of his neck. “What do you mean _never_ do that again?” 

“I mean that I was curious about what sex would be like, and you were very gracious to show me, and now, well… Now I know what it’s like, and so we don’t have to do it again.”

“Gracious?” Crowley repeated, his voice flat, his face numb, his heart busily ripping itself in two. “Angel, you can’t be serious”.

“Of course I’m serious Crowley” Aziraphale, to Crowley’s deep concern, was sitting to pull his breeches back up to cover his nudity. “ _I_ am an angel. _You_ are a demon. We can’t simply shag whenever the mood strikes us. I thought you’d know that.”

Crowley’s chest was constricting. His eyes were burning. _Oh shit. Don’t cry. Don’t cry you horrible bastard_ he told himself viciously as he too reached numbly to pull up his breeches and roll off the cot. “But angel” He stammered out as he watched Aziraphale get up and pull his cloak around himself. “There’s so much more we haven’t experienced yet. There’s a lot more to sex than what we just did. We could experiment for quite a while before we ran out of options.” He was desperate at this point. He felt like his stomach was flipping in somersaults as Aziraphale started walking towards the exit to the tent. 

The angel turned to look at him, and Crowley could see a worried, sad look in his hazel eyes. Perhaps it was regret? “I know that Crowley. I know there’s a lot we haven’t done, but... my side. They simply wouldn’t allow it. And if we were caught. Well… I would hate for anything bad to happen to either of us. I… well… I like you quite a bit.”

“I like you too angel.” Crowley said, not even trying to hide the anguish in his voice. Aziraphale gave him one more sad look, his large eyes shining briefly in the dim light inside Crowley’s tent, and then he was gone, leaving behind nothing but a damp gust of air from outside, and the lingering scent of anise seed and peppermint. 

Crowley sat down on the cot and put his head in his hands. He didn’t cry, couldn’t let himself do that. He would simply refuse to let Aziraphale go that easily. It would be one thing if the angel hadn’t so clearly enjoyed himself. Crowley would likely be haunted by the memories of Aziraphale’s gasping cries of pleasure, how the angel’s body had arched off the cot and into Crowley’s hand, for a long time to come. It would be different if Aziraphale had had a lukewarm response to Crowley’s attentions. But he’d been anything but lukewarm. Instead, he’d burned like a white hot flame in Crowley’s arms, had moaned Crowley’s name. So Crowley knew that the desire was there. The angel was simply afraid for their safety. It was touching really. 

Crowley vowed then not to give up. He would wait. He would pine and he would wait until the next occasion to get physically close to Aziraphale arose. Until he could finally taste that pale, soft skin, lick into that lovely mouth again. He could be patient. He’d have to be. The alternative was to believe that Aziraphale actually _meant it_ when he said they could never have sex again. And that was… well, he’d respect Aziraphale’s wishes, but that was just deeply depressing and Crowley didn’t want to think about that now. 

He got back into his cot and pulled the furs around him, curling into a fetal position to try and conserve body heat, wishing he had a thick, warm angel in his bed to wrap in his arms. 


	4. Chapter 4

They met again a few times, and not much happened. Aziraphale remained polite. At least on the very surface. Beneath his politeness though, Crowley could see a hint of something in his eyes from time to time. A vulnerability. A glint of heated longing. But the angel, perhaps quite good at delayed gratification, never broached the subject of their little “experiment” again for many centuries. They drank wine. They laughed. They traded temptations and blessings (Aziraphale eventually became convinced to try out The Arrangement over one too many mugs of ale in a tavern one night a few years after their tryst in Crowley’s tent). But things remained frustratingly platonic. 

  
  
  


Until 1793. 

One cloudy afternoon in the late eighteenth century, Crowley felt a pulse of anxiety from the general direction of the east side of Paris. The angel was in trouble. He could sense it from miles away. And he was in fact, miles away at the time, in Madrid, trying to tempt a wealthy cattle ranch owner’s son to swindle his brother out of inclusion in the will. 

Upon hearing the angel’s distressed energy, pulsing in his senses like a beacon, he snapped his fingers, transporting himself instantly to the center point of that frantic call. He found himself in a dank cell, confronted with a very posh looking angel, sitting on a small wooden stool, his soft, lace rimmed wrists clapped in chains. 

“What kind of trouble did you get yourself into this time angel?” Crowley drawled. 

Aziraphale had the good sense to look sheepish. He cast his lovely eyes down at the filthy floor of the cell and sighed, his chest rising and falling fetchingly behind the ruffles of his linen shirt. He was wearing a ridiculous getup. A brocade, cream colored jacket with a flared hem, a ruffly white shirt, knee-length cream breeches, silken stockings and a pair of shiny, silver silk pumps. He looked like a complete and utter dandy, and Crowley was glad he was wearing his shades so that Aziraphale couldn’t see the fire in the demon’s eyes at the sight of him, all decked out like a delicious pastry. 

They chatted briefly about humanity’s startling and effective ways of murdering each other, and Crowley said he would release the angel from his chains so that they could go get some crepes. He was more than surprised when Aziraphale had lifted a hand to stop him, saying “Don’t!” then blushing and adding “Not yet” with a sly look in Crowley’s direction. 

“Angel…What?” Crowley paused, his fingers still pressed together in preparation to snap the chains off of Aziraphale’s wrists. His eyes wide with confusion. 

“I thought…” Aziraphale looked up at Crowley through thick, dark blond lashes, the tops of his cheeks suddenly quite pink. “I thought that perhaps.. We could renegotiate our little … experiment” he said, voice soft and hesitant. Crowley felt his body react instantly to the implication held within the angel’s words. 

_Their experiment_.

Not like he hadn’t thought about their _experiment_ every bloody day for the past twelve centuries. Not like it kept him up at night with his cock in his fist, crying Aziraphale’s name into the darkness of his many bedrooms over those long centuries. Not at all.

“You see” Aziraphale continued, his face growing impossibly pinker as the moments ticked by. “I’ve given it quite a bit of thought, and well, it _was_ rather enjoyable wasn’t it?” 

Crowley responded with an unrecognizable noise in the back of his throat, and a swift nod. He oh so carefully lounged against a stone outcropping in the cell wall and tried valiantly to keep his heart from beating out of his chest and flopping wetly at Aziraphale’s feet.

“And so, well, I couldn’t help but wonder about those _other things_ you mentioned that we could do together. I know there’s quite a few other _configurations_ of bits and limbs and mouths and so forth from my own extensive research into human sexual practices...and I realized that you were right.”

“I - I was?” Crowley could barely keep it together enough to form a cogent response. 

“Yes Crowley dear. You said my bosses wouldn’t find out. That we could keep it secret. And well, after quite a few meetings over drinks, and Gabriel not even noticing our little Arrangement taking place, I grew a bit more bold in my thinking. And so, if it’s alright with you, I’d like to pick up our experimentation where we left off in Wessex.”

Crowley squeaked. Then he coughed. Then he finally pulled his shaking, burning insides back together long enough to force a few simple words out of his mouth. “Oh yeah angel. That could work. I’d… yeah. I’d like that.”

“Oh good!” Aziraphale chirped happily, a breathtaking smile breaking across his face, and Crowley silently prayed to Satan that this wasn’t some sort of beautiful dream. 

“Well now angel. If you’ll let me remove those chains, we can go somewhere private and um… get started?” Crowley took a step towards Aziraphale, but was surprised when the angel again stopped him with a sharp motion of his hand and a small, apologetic smile. 

“Wait Crowley! I’d really rather not go somewhere else. Isn’t it private enough in here? I’ve frozen the guards in place, and as you can see, I’ve muted the sounds coming from outside, from that horrid machine.”

“Um.. yeah. Sure”, Crowley couldn’t fathom why Aziraphale would want to have sex in a smelly, dank dungeon, but if he wanted to have sex with Crowley on the bottom of a brackish, freezing cold lake in Iceland, Crowley would gladly hold his breath and start swimming. Whatever pleased the angel is what the demon would gladly do. “Let's at least get those chains off you and get more comfortable.” He took another step towards the angel, and again was stopped by a flutter of lace covered hands. 

“I rather… well you see Crowley… I rather _like_ the chains in fact” Aziraphale mumbled this into the ruffles on his chest, eyes cast down, cheeks flaming. And suddenly, Crowley understood. And then his insides threatened to burst into flames and consume him in a great conflagration of lust. _He wants to keep the chains on."_ Crowley thought. _"_ He _wants to keep them on. He… He…_ Crowley struggled to wrap his mind around the erotic possibilites of having a beautiful, willing angel, wrapped up like a frilly Christmas gift, shackled to the wall by wrought iron chains, and his mind melted and threatened to spill out of his ears. 

“So” Aziraphale’s voice, tremulous and soft broke through Crowley’s reverie and snapped him back to reality. “I thought whatever we do together, it would be much more pleasing, to me anyway, if I remained chained and… erm... helpless during it? And I very much like the idea of you being the rakish hero, coming to rescue me, and then, sort of… having your way with me. Would you enjoy that my dear?”

“You’ve clearly been reading too much Marquis De Sade, but yes, yes that would be really fun angel.”

What Crowley truly wanted to say was _Thank you so much you beautiful creature. I’ve longed for centuries to touch your silken skin and worship your beautiful body with my hands and my mouth and you’ve just given me the greatest gift of my very long life by agreeing to let me touch you again._ But well… he had a reputation as a big, bad demon to uphold. Wouldn’t do to show his hand too quickly. “How do you want to… uh begin?” He asked out loud, sauntering a bit closer to Aziraphale.

“I thought maybe you could, you know, pretend to be a bit displeased with me for getting trapped in here. And then you could offer to let me free, but only if I let you do things to me? Things maybe with your hand or your mouth? Would that work my dear?”

“Yes” Crowley’s voice had slipped up several octaves, and the single syllable came out like a high pitched squeak. He cleared his throat and tried again at a lower register. “Yes angel. Uh… should I start now?”

“Yes please Crowley.” Aziraphale shot him a flirtatious look and smiled his soft, glowing smile. 

“Alright then.” Crowley paused, taking a moment to get into the part he was meant to play. He had a fairly good idea of what Aziraphale was looking for in a role playing game, but didn’t want to hit an off chord if he could help it.

“Silly angel!” He barked out disapprovingly. “I can’t believe you had to go and get yourself locked up in the bastille! What a careless thing to do!” He affected a sharp, scolding tone and was pleased to see Aziraphale’s sharp intake of breath and the glint in his eyes when he heard it.

“I’m sorry Crowley.” the angel pouted prettily and shook his hands so that the chains clinked a bit for emphasis. “Truth be told, it was the crepes. You can’t get decent ones anywhere but in Paris..” he paused briefly to pout a bit harder in Crowley’s direction “... and the brioche of course.”

“I should have known this had something to do with food,” Crowley growled, hopefully quite believably and took a couple of swift strides so that he stood right in front of Aziraphale. He reached down and grabbed the angel’s shackled wrists, giving them a gentle shake. “You’ve really gotten yourself into a situation here haven’t you angel? How are you ever going to _learn your lesson_ if you don’t start _behaving_ more responsibly?” Crowley hoped he was laying it on thick enough.

He was pleased to see his words cause a cascade of lust to spill across Aziraphale’s face. His eyes fluttered, his mouth gaped gently open and his breathing kicked into high gear as he gazed into Crowley’s disapproving face. “Y-Yes of course…” he stammered, looking at Crowley’s mouth in a very pointed manner. “Now, if you’ll just remove these chains, we can get out of here and find ourselves some of those delicious crepes I mentioned. I promise to be good from now on”.

“Something tells me you have no intention of being _good_ angel,” Crowley brought his voice down to a rough whisper and used his hands on Aziraphale’s wrists to pull him in closer, close enough so that their lips were mere centimeters apart. Aziraphale let out a sharp little cry in response, and Crowley grinned wickedly at him. “I don’t think you’ll really learn the error of your ways until you start to face the _consequences_ of your actions.” 

Crowley was a demon, and so kinky sex and domination were second nature to him. So was submission for that matter. The eighteenth century was chock full of kinky noblemen who wanted ladies in silk shoes (shoes that looked a whole heck of a lot like the pair Aziraphale had on right now) to walk all over them and call them “bad little boy.” He’d run across a lot of high born women who wanted their corsets pulled extra tight by their very _very_ attentive ladies in waiting. This century was rife with kink, but Crowley also knew that deep down, Aziraphale had likely had this need in him, to be dominated and scolded and roughed up, from the very beginning. He was simply too soft and yielding and delicious not to want it that way, and oh Crowley was very prepared to give him what he wanted.

“Oh my. How shall I _face the consequences_ then?” Aziraphale was breathing very hard now, his eyes were wide and luminous and his pupils had dilated to the point where his eyes almost looked black. _He is_ loving _this_ Crowley realized, which only spurred him to perform all the more realistically to please the angel. 

“You can start by letting me spank you, to show you how very _naughty_ you’ve been” he hissed into the angel’s face. Then he roughly pressed their mouths together in a brutal kiss. He heard the angel make a sharp moan against his lips as he wrapped a hand in the blond curls at the back of Aziraphale’s head and clenched his fist. He pulled back swiftly and whispered into Aziraphale’s wet, open mouth, eyes searching the angel’s face for signs of discomfort or displeasure. “ _Is this alright? Do you think you might like a spanking?_ ” He asked softly, so as not to break the mood too much. 

Aziraphale nodded enthusiastically and Crowley smiled, glad his intuition had been spot on. Something about Aziraphale’s pouts and wiggles and shy little looks told him that the angel would enjoy a sharp hand to his bottom and some rough hair pulling. Not to mention the fact that the angel had literally requested that he be seduced while wearing a pair of wrought iron shackles. That might have been the biggest clue come to think of it.

Crowley sat down on the little wooden stool, snapping his fingers to make it a bit taller and broader, so that it could hold their combined weight. “Pull your breeches down and lie across my lap” he commanded, and Aziraphale rushed to comply. It was awkward to pull down one’s trousers while one’s hands are shackled, but he managed it well enough.

Soon, the angel was draped, face down across the tops of Crowley’s thighs, his fancy breeches pooling around his ankles, his plump, extremely well shaped backside on display before Crowley’s hungry eyes. Crowley raised his hand and brought it down with what must have been a stinging slap against Aziraphale’s silky buttock. The angel gasped and moaned at the feeling of Crowley’s hand on his backside. 

“Did you like that angel?” Crowley, unable to see Aziraphale’s face at this angle, thought it would be prudent to check in. 

“Oh yes Crowley. That was lovely.” Aziraphale had turned his head to look at Crowley out of the corner of his eye, over his shoulder, and it was quite clear from his flushed face and bright eyes that he was indeed having fun. “Or rather, no! No! It was terrible. Oh dear! It _hurt_ me so very _badly_!” he gasped out, then grinned. The wicked little minx. 

Crowley suppressed a fond smile at Azirpahale’s over-the-top portrayal of a dismayed damsel being punished by an evil demon. “Good. I’m glad it hurts” he remarked gruffly, “Because I’m going to punish that soft arse of yours until you can’t sit for a week.” Crowley brought his hand up and down again to deliver another ringing slap to the other cheek. Aziraphale made a breathless, groaning noise and wriggled in Crowley’s lap. Crowley could feel a hard cock, pressing insistently against the tops of his legs, compelling evidence that the angel was loving this. He was rock hard himself and wondered if Aziraphale could feel his stiff prick, straining against his trousers against the angel’s soft side. 

He spanked Aziraphale’s arse over and over, scolding him for being a “bad angel” and an “eager little slut” until his hand was stinging with the impact of the repeated blows to the angel’s silky soft backside. Aziraphale cried out with every slap, his voice growing rough, his hips making involuntary thrusts into Crowley’s lap. Eventually, when the angel’s arse was bright red, Crowley stopped. “You still doing alright angel?” he asked, sotto voce.

This time Aziraphale only nodded, seeming incapable of speech. “Good. I think you’ve had enough spanking for now,” Crowley said softly, indulgently. “Now stand up and let me admire my handiwork” 

Aziraphale clambered clumsily off of Crowley’s lap and stood, eyes cast down in faux embarrassment, his cock so engorged and stiff that it looked dark pink in color. His breeches still lay in a pile by his ankles and his wrists were still bound by shackles. He looked incredibly aroused and helpless and lovely. Crowley made a spinning motion with his finger, telling Aziraphale to turn around, and when the angel did, Crowley could see his bright red arse cheeks poking out from under the hem of his frilly shirt. The sight took his breath away. 

He stood up briefly to pull Aziraphale back towards him, and then sat down again, the angel’s red arse inches from his face. He began to place soft, gentle kisses all over the burning skin of the angel’s arse cheeks, and was rewarded with a gasp and a thrust backwards from Aziraphale. “Mmm. you like this don’t you my bad, dirty little angel?” Crowley cooed between kisses. “Would you like me to explore a little further? Get you nice and wet and open with my tongue and my fingers?”

“Oh yes. Y-yes Crowley. Please” Aziraphale’s voice was weak and shaking. He was clearly a bit overwhelmed and Crowley loved it.

“On one condition though angel. You can’t come from it. I don't want you finishing unless it's in my mouth” Upon hearing this, all Aziraphale was capable of doing was moaning loudly and nodding a terse little nod. Crowley parted Aziraphale’s cheeks with his fingers and then slipped his tongue between them to test at the puckered opening, clean and sweet tasting in the way only an immortal being who’d never used it for a single thing could taste. Aziraphale groaned loudly and jutted his hips back against Crowley’s tongue as Crowley plunged it as deep as he could get it into Aziraphale’s tight arsehole. He withdrew and replaced his tongue with a finger, delighting in the sharp cry from the angel. 

“Good?” he asked. 

“Oh yes. _Please_ give me more,” Aziraphale gasped out. His thighs were shaking and he was pushing himself back onto Crowley’s finger with desperate little pulses of his hips, and so Crowley added a second and then, after a few more moments of gentle thrusting, a third finger, pumping slowly in and out of Aziraphale’s tight, hot entrance. 

“You like that don’t you you bad, naughty little angel? You like me opening you up like this with my fingers don’t you?” he asked, voice gruff with suppressed desire, and Aziraphale simply moaned and thrust back harder against his fingers in response. The feel of the angel’s heat, of him clenching around Crowley’s fingers almost made Crowley come in his breeches. He wanted nothing more than to pull out his aching cock and sit Aziraphale down on top of it, to fuck Aziraphale hard and deep until he exploded inside that tight, delcious passage, but he knew that would be a bit much for only their second time ‘experimenting.’ 

Instead he withdrew his fingers, pulling a disappointed moan from Aziraphale, and turned the angel around roughly. Looking up at him with hungry eyes he said. “I don’t think you’ve learned your lesson yet, angel. I think you need me to _suck_ the naughtiness out of you. What do you think?”

Aziraphale let out a low breathy groan and nodded, beyond speech at this point. His breath was coming fast and his cheeks were aflame with an epic blush, the likes of which Crowley had never seen before. His eyes had a wild, drunken gleam to them. He looked not at all the way an angel is _supposed_ to look and it took every ounce of Crowley’s strength not to blurt out his love for Aziraphale and ruin the moment completely. 

So instead, to keep his traitorous mouth busy, he pulled Aziraphale a little closer and slowly engulfed the head of his cock. He closed his eyes then, allowing the soft, thick bulb of flesh to rest against his tongue, to feel the pulse of Aziraphale’s heartbeat throb in his mouth. Aziraphale moaned loudly and tried to put his hands into Crowley’s hair, to ruin his elaborate quaff, but found his hands still shackled and instead looped them over Crowley’s head. 

“Oh _yes_ Crowley. Oh dear lord. I didn’t know your mouth would feel this way. It’s… it’s…so good...so... good. So hot and wet and... oh! Oh dear!”

Encouraged by the angel’s praise, Crowley had sunk a few more inches of the thick, hot shaft past his lips, enjoying the salty sweet taste of Aziraphale, moaning in the back of his throat as the angel’s cock filled his mouth. He sank further and further until he had swallowed Aziraphale down to the hilt. The angel cried out loudly, pulling gently downwards with his shackled hands around Crowley’s neck and Crowley, ever the helpful demon impaled himself on the angel’s cock, pushing him as deep into his throat as he could go. He had no need to breathe and no gag reflex to speak of and so he was able to slip all of Aziraphale’s length inside him, inside the tight grip of his throat. It felt astoundingly good. He had a mad urge to unhinge his snake-jaws and swallow the angel whole. To feel all of him engulfed inside Crowley’s body. Held and squeezed and unharmed. Ah the sexual urges of demon-snakes in love. 

Aziraphale was reduced to gasps and inarticulate half-words as Crowley pulled back and plunged down again, setting up a slow rhythm of strokes with his mouth, using his tongue to his advantage as he rose and fell on the angel’s cock. It took only half a dozen strokes before Aziraphale gasped loudly and cried out.

“Oh Crowley. I’m going to come. I’m going to come in your mouth. Oh! Oh! Crowley!”

He convulsed and came, gasping the demon’s name over and over in a voice gone rough and breathless. Crowley hung on and took all the angel gave him, a hand on each burning arse cheek to pull him in tight and deep as the angel twitched and spilled into Crowley’s mouth.

When Aziraphale’s spasms subsided, Crowley pulled up and off the angel’s cock, making sure to keep a tight seal with his mouth so as not to waste a single drop of his delicious semen. He looked up into Aziraphale’s eyes and saw them glowing and dilated and the angel’s cheeks flushed and his mouth bruised, open and panting. It was probably the most beautiful thing Crowley had ever seen.

_I love you. I love you to distraction. I love you more than I love anything in this big beautiful world, you gorgeous creature_

“Did you enjoy that? Learn your lesson yet?” he said out loud, because he was damned if he’d ruin this fantastic turn of events with his stupid, love sick ramblings. 

“Perhaps...not quite yet,” Aziraphale, still breathless and flushed, was looking down pointedly at the stiff bulge in the front of Crowley’s breeches, where he still sat on the bench. And then… and then… the angel, Satan bless him, knelt down in front of Crowley and looked up at him with shining eyes. “May I… return the favor?” he asked, face the picture of blushing desire. 

Crowley was undoing his breeches before he could even nod his assent. “I hope you’re not expecting this to take more than a few seconds angel. Sucking you off has me… um.... on edge.”

“Oh Crowley, I don’t care if it takes two seconds or two hours. I find that I have a very strong urge to put my mouth on you. I do hope you’ll enjoy it. I’ve never done this before you know.” And here, Aziraphale had the gall to look shy and uncertain. 

“Angel, I’m almost completely positive I’ll enjoy it.” Crowley said, while shimmying his breeches down over his hips and allowing his throbbing prick to spring free of its confines. “Want me to take the shackles off now?” he asked, breathless already by the thought the angel’s soft mouth on his cock. 

“Um no,” Aziraphale blushed anew and looked down at his hands, where they lay shackled between them. “I’d rather hoped you could, sort of… I don’t know… use my mouth a bit. You know, take my head in your hands and sort of… direct me as it were? You could give me verbal instruction too if that’s to your liking. Would that suit you?”

“Oh fuck” Crowley groaned out. “Oh fuck angel. That would suit me. Yes. It would suit me just fine.” He strove briefly to picture a few very disturbing and not-erotic things in his mind’s eye to will himself away from coming the second Aziraphale’s mouth touched his cock. Souls being tortured in the Pits of Despair. Bubonic plague victims. Beelzebub kissing Gabriel. It worked marginally. He felt himself pull slowly back from the brink.

He reached out and gently grasped Aziraphale’s head in both of his hands. “Feel free to be quite rough Crowley,” the angel said, his eyes oh so soft and luminous. Crowley didn’t trust himself to speak, so he nodded. Using his hands, he gently urged Aziraphale’s mouth towards his aching cock. The angel happily took the head between his lips and gave it a tentative suck and Crowley was afraid that he’d discorporate from the feel of it. He’d discorporate and be sent back to Hell and have to wait decades to be assigned a new body. And when they found out he’d died because an angel had merely _started trying to suck his cock_ , he’d either be the laughing stock of Hell, or be punished for all eternity. 

He wrapped the fingers of both hands in the angel’s insanely soft hair and tugged downwards gently. “Take more of me in your mouth angel,” he requested, his voice gone gravelly with desire. Aziraphale moaned in response and swiftly sunk halfway down Crowley’s shaft. His soft lips and wet tongue felt like liquid fire against the tortured flesh of Crowley’s shaft and Crowley threw his head back and gasped out a surprised yelp of pleasure. Aziraphale seemed heartened and sank further, easily taking Crowley’s cock all the way into his mouth, his nose resting in the bed of short copper curls at it’s base. 

“Fuck angel. _Fuck. Fuck. Fuck_. That’s so good.”

Aziraphale pulled up and off Crowley to give him a questioning look. “Why do you use profanity during sex?” he asked, absently wiping a stray string of saliva from his chin with a frilly sleeve and a clinking of iron chains. He seemed genuinely curious, if a bit flushed and breathless.

Crowley hadn’t expected this, but he rallied quickly, hoping to answer the angel’s question and redirect him back to his task sooner than later. “Well because it’s fun.” He answered simply. 

“Fun?” Aziraphale seemed perplexed. 

“Yeah angel. I say dirty things because it’s fun. Makes things… feel better. You should give it a try sometime.” The thought of Aziraphale saying ‘fuck’ was enough to erase all of the efforts Crowley had recently made to pull away from the edge of his ever-impending orgasm. He gritted his teeth and thought of Beelzebub’s boil encrusted face again to bring himself back down. 

“Now if you would, erm, get back to it?” he tugged gently on Aziraphale’s hair again to remind the angel that he still had a job to do. Aziraphale grinned a wicked little grin and swallowed Crowley back down in one swift sink of his lips, and Crowley cried out and clenched his fingers in Aziraphale’s hair in response. This seemed to make the angel happy. He groaned around crowley’s cock and nodded his head at the feel of Crowley’s fingers tightening in his hair, and so Crowley tightened them further and pulled Aziraphale’s mouth up, and then back down on his cock, a bit roughly. “This OK?” he asked, making sure the angel was enjoying himself. 

Aziraphale simply nodded again and moaned deep in his throat and so Crowley thrust his hips up and fucked the angel’s soft mouth with a couple of hesitant thrusts. More happy moans ensued. “I’m going to fuck your mouth now angel. Fuck your mouth until I come inside it,” Crowley gasped out, and Aziraphale nodded again, letting out a ruined, desperate little noise.

Crowley gripped the angel’s hair tightly and began thrusting upwards in earnest, fucking the angel’s mouth with abandon, and Aziraphale took it all with ease. He made desperate, sharp grunting noises with each inward thrust of Crowley’s cock, gazing up at Crowley with shining eyes over flushed cheeks, looking utterly debauched and yet oh so earnest and eager to please, and that’s what pushed Crowley over the edge. He gave a final thrust upwards, simultaneously pulling Aziraphale’s mouth down on him with quite a bit of force and came with a thundering intensity that shook the breath out of him. His mouth gaped open silently as wave after wave of intense pleasure pulsed through him, and he spurted into Aziraphale’s warm, wet mouth. 

Aziraphale swallowed repeatedly around Crowley’s twitching cock until the demon stopped thrusting and his gasping moans slowed and tapered off. Crowley, still high as a kite on the last shudders of orgasmic bliss, snapped the shackles away from Aziraphale’s wrists and pulled the angel up into a passionate kiss. He wrapped his arms around Aziraphale and felt Aziraphale’s arms come around him to hold him tight, as he kissed the angel with all the love and lust he felt exploding in his heart.

He was fucked. He was well and truly _fucked_. How could he survive much more of these little ‘experiments’ without spilling his pathetic heart out all over Aziraphale? This had been a bad idea. Post-orgasm, with the angel wrapped up warmly in his arms, sharing the taste of his semen by way of a very sloppy, far too romantic kiss, Crowley could see a long road of unrequited love and astoundingly good sex going off into the distance forever. 

Yes, the idea of snogging and shagging his way through the upcoming centuries with a being he loved desperately was highly appealing. What was _not_ so appealing was all the work he’d have to do to hide his feelings. His wretched, pointless feelings that filled him up to the brim with hopeless, yearning love for the angel. Feelings that could get him killed. Or worse, could get Aziraphale killed. He doubted that Heaven was any more lenient surrounding the idea that Aziraphale was fucking a demon, than Hell would be about Crowley falling head over heels for an angel. 

Reluctantly, he pulled away from Aziraphale, their lips parting with a soft, wet sound and looked into Aziraphale’s glowing, sex drunk eyes. “We should go” he said. What he wanted to say was _we should stop this. Nip this in the bud. I can’t protect you if heaven finds out. I can’t protect myself if hell finds out how helplessly lost on you I am._ But of course, he had no intention of nipping this in the bud. He lacked the strength. He was utterly, completely besotted. 

Instead, he said “Tempt you to a spot of lunch? Perhaps some crepes?” and was rewarded with one of Aziraphale’s beaming smiles. 

“That sounds lovely Crowley. There’s this place in the bakery district that sells the most heavenly pear and honey crepes.” The angel was already getting to his feet, tugging his breeches back up, and so Crowley did the same. They made themselves presentable and then with a swift miracle, they were seated together in a delightful little creperie across town. 

Crowley sat with his chin propped up on his hand, his fingers still smelling temptingly of Aziraphale’s cock, and watched the angel work his way through one and three quarters servings of pear and honey crepes. Inside, he was dying a little. And being reborn and then dying again. He was trapped in a never ending cycle of yearning, of unexpressed emotion. But he thought he could handle it if he would be allowed to keep touching Aziraphale. To keep bringing him off with his hand and his mouth. If he could hold the angel in his arms afterwards and smell his hair. It was manageable. Or at least that’s what Crowley hoped. 


	5. Chapter 5

And so it went. On and on through the next several decades. They’d meet, have a few drinks, chat and laugh like usual. And then at some point, Aziraphale would give Crowley a smoldering look, or Crowley would slowly run his thumb back and forth across the inside of Aziraphale’s wrist and then they’d be kissing passionately, shedding clothing in a rush to get skin on skin. It never happened in a proper bed. Usually in a dark alley, or on a sofa in a back room somewhere, or in the park at night when no one else was around. They found secret places to come together and give each other pleasure. 

Sometimes Crowley would simply pull Aziraphale’s cock from his trousers to suck him off as soon as they reached a place that was secluded enough. Sometimes they’d stroke each other to orgasm while still fully dressed with trousers unbuttoned, kissing with passionate intensity and crying softly into each other’s mouths as they came. It was always rushed. Rushed and breathless and searing hot. Always there was the threat of detection, the thought that this might be the last time they could be together this way. Which of course made every interaction not only fraught with meaning, at least for Crowley, but also, astoundingly erotic. 

There was a bit of a rough patch in 1862, when the combination of terror over being caught and being driven senseless by his endless longing for Aziraphale made Crowley request holy water in order to protect them from avenging demons. Aziraphale had reacted badly, believing that Crowley had wanted to take his own life. He’d said some insensitive things, making Crowley shoot back with some even more insensitive things and the two had parted ways in anger.

Crowley had sunk into a deep depression afterwards and had gone for what was supposed to be a nap, but what actually ended up a nearly 80 year slumber. 

He’d woken up in the early 1940s, just in time to rescue his silly angel from yet another gang of nasty, violent humans. This time it was Nazis in a church. Crowley had to hand it to Aziraphale. The angel had a special gift for getting himself into particularly unique scrapes. He suspected more-than-a-little that Aziraphale did this so that Crowley would come running to rescue him. Which would mean the angel desperately wanted to see him. Which in turn made Crowley glow inside with a deep warmth that he immediately pushed down into that ages old little box inside himself where he kept his passionate love for the angel hidden. 

Still, the look Aziraphale gave him as he handed over the angel’s precious bag of books, a look of such pure awe and gratitude, made Crowley hope that maybe, deep down, the angel might feel the same way. That maybe their shagging through the centuries meant more to him than an enjoyable new experience. 

He’d offered the stunned angel a ride home in his new car, and Aziraphale had accepted. Dear Satan how Crowley adored his Bentley. It was sex on wheels. A curvaceous, chrome and black panther, crouched low to the road, that purred like a kitten. He loved it almost as much as he loved Aziraphale. Almost. 

The angel looked dazed on their way to the bookshop, so Crowley remained silent on the drive over. He had after all been asleep for several decades. Perhaps Aziraphale was mad at him? Crowley cast a sideways glance or two in Aziraphale’s direction from behind the shelter of his dark shades, but the angel only looked a bit stunned, not angry at all. 

They pulled up outside the shop and sat in silence for a moment in the car, the engine turned off. The only sounds were from distant air raid sirens and the screams of Lodoners in fear and pain, and of course the tics and pings of the Bentley, slowly cooling from it’s race through the streets of London. Not the most romantic setting in the world. 

“Would… would you like to come in for a drink?” Aziraphale asked hesitantly

_Yes! Yes! Dear Satan yes! With every cell in my demonic corporation!_

“Yeah. Sure angel.”

They got out and walked over to the shop. It was kept purposefully dark to comply with the black-out, the shades drawn and the streetlamps nearby dimmed and shuttered so that their light only fell towards the street in narrow pools. Crowley had driven them home without the Bentley’s headlamps being on. He could hide some things from humans at close range with the use of demonic spells, but hiding the Bentley’s lights from any and all German bombers overhead was a bit of a tall order. Aziraphale’s bright hair and cream colored suit glowed in the dim grayness of London-under-siege. 

The angel unlocked the doors of the shop with a wave of his hand and they both crept inside. He led Crowley to the back of the shop, to his small sitting room, where he lit a collection of thick, white candles. They provided a warm, yellow glow that made Aziraphale truly look like an angel as he stood before Crowley, hands clasped nervously in front of him and eyes cast down. “Would you prefer scotch or wine my dear?” he asked.

“Scotch please,” Crowley mumbled, struggling to remain calm on the surface, while his hands twitched with the urge to pull the angel into his arms. He had to take it slow. They hadn’t seen one another in quite a while (thanks to Crowley’s penchant for extended naps), and hadn’t parted ways on the best of terms. Crowley didn’t want to rush in and drive the angel away. 

Aziraphale shuffled off to go get the scotch and a pair of tumblers, and Crowley made himself comfortable on the sofa, lounging as if he had not a bone in his body. The angel came back momentarily with the drinks in his hands, the scotch bottle trapped under his arm and sat down next to Crowley (but not too close), placing the drinks and bottle on the small table in front of the sofa. He handed a tumbler to Crowley and they clinked their glasses together in a wordless toast and drank. 

After a few more awkward minutes of shared silence, Aziraphale spoke, his voice soft and quiet. “You were gone for quite a while”

“Yeah angel. Sorry bout that. Fell asleep. Forgot to set an alarm”. 

“You might have told me you were planning to sleep for sixty years Crowley. I thought you might have taken matters into your own hands with the holy water. Thought maybe there’d been an... accident”. 

Something in the angel’s tone, a thickness, a hesitancy, made Crowley turn to look at him, and what he saw was surprising. Aziraphale was crying. He’d never seen the angel cry before. Not even after the flood. He was a paragon of stoicism. And yet here he was, tears making wet tracks down both of his pale cheeks, his eyes gone anguished and his mouth twisted into a worried frown. 

Crowley had Aziraphale in his arms before a single tear could drip from the angel’s chin. “Hush, hush now. Don’t cry angel. I’m here now. Nothing happened”, he cooed as he wrapped the angel up tight in his arms and squeezed him. This only made Aziraphale cry harder. 

“I..I..th-thought, I’d l-lost you!” He stuttered into Crowley’s neck, his shoulders shaking with sobs. Crowley stroked his hair and rubbed gentle circles into the angel’s back over his coat with his other hand, rocking them gently back and forth while Aziraphale sobbed. He’d had no idea his absence had hit the angel so hard, and a wild joy over being this valued to Aziraphale mixing strangely with a deep sadness and regret over having made him worry so, rose up inside his chest. 

“There there. I’m here now” He repeated “Nothing happened to me. I’m just a thoughtless git. A thoughtless wanker, that’s what I am.” He hoped his clumsy apology and the fierceness of his embrace would mollify the angel. And it appeared to do just that. Aziraphale’s sobs eventually slowed and stilled. Crowley pulled back so that they could look at each other, and tutted softly over the state of Aziraphale’s face. Red and puffy and flushed. He looked utterly and completely adorable. Crowley smiled. “See?” he said gently. “I’m fine now angel. I’m not worth all this hullabaloo.” 

“Yes you are. You’re _very much_ worth it” Aziraphale whispered, and then he leaned forward and captured Crowley’s lips in a gentle kiss. A kiss that burned and healed Crowley in the same moment. After a split second of surprise, Crowley kissed back, opening Aziraphale’s mouth effortlessly and pulling the angel tightly against him. Aziraphale melted into the blending of their lips, sucking Crowley’s tongue into his mouth and moaning low in the back of his throat. 

Crowley went from a kind and solicitous friend who’d held the angel in his arms and comforted him, to a pillar of flaming heat within seconds. He ate hungrily at Aziraphale’s mouth, groaning at the way the angel’s lips set his body on fire. His cock was like hardened cement inside his posh trousers, as if Aziraphale had miracled it so with a snap of his fingers. He may have been asleep for sixty years, but his human corporation knew how long he’d gone without the angel’s touch, and it was screaming at him for release. For more of Aziraphale’s skin and hands and mouth. 

“Oh Crowley” Aziraphale mumbled between slips of their lips and tongue together. “Oh, I’ve missed you so.”

“I’ve missed you too angel. So much” Crowley realized suddenly that he _had_ missed Aziraphale. He’d dreamed of the angel often in his long slumber, but a small part of his brain that always stayed conscious to guard against curious demons, or avenging angels had been aware the whole time that they were just dreams. Not real and warm and in his arms like the real Aziraphale was right now. 

They kissed deliriously for what felt like hours. Crowley let his fingers wind themselves in Aziraphale’s soft hair and Aziraphale stroked Crowley’s face and back and shoulders with his thick, hot hands, making Crowley purr in response. It was heaven. 

Eventually though, Aziraphale’s soft grunts and low moans became more heated and insistent. His lips on Crowley’s moved with a building urgency, his hands started pulling Crowley more tightly against him. Crowley picked up instantly on the angel’s needs and felt his body respond with lightning speed to those not-so-subtle signals from Aziraphale. He started undoing the angel’s ridiculous tartan bow tie with trembling fingers. Aziraphale in turn pushed Crowley’s fancy, dark jacket from his shoulders and started in on the tortoise shell buttons of Crowley’s silk shirt. 

After a minute or two more of awkward fumbling, Crowley gave a grunt of frustration and snapped his fingers, disappearing both of their clothes and leaving them naked in each other’s arms on the sofa. Crowley gasped out loud at the sudden feeling of Aziraphale’s soft skin against his own. “Angel” he moaned. “Angel. I want you so badly. What do you want? Tell me. What can I do for you?” 

Aziraphale pulled back and regarded him with shy eyes that made him melt inside like a chocolate bar left out on a blanket at the beach. “I want you inside of me,” he said simply, those six words, falling like a benediction from his mouth, making Crowley fear that he might incinerate on the spot. They’d never done that particular act before. Crowley wasn’t sure why. Perhaps because he knew that being inside Aziraphale might be his undoing. Tonight though, he didn’t care. The angel had asked him, and he was blessed if he’d say no, wasn’t even physically capable of saying no to something he wanted so very badly. 

“Turn around” he commanded roughly. Aziraphale dutifully did as he was told, draping himself over the large, stuffed arm of the sofa and looked back at Crowley with yearning, glowing eyes. Crowley took ,a brief moment to admire the angel’s soft, pale back, the muscles moving beautifully beneath a layer of well earned fat, making him look broad and strong. His pale buttocks, soft, round and firm, presented to Crowley like an offering to a particularly discerning god. Crowley crawled up behind him and pressed his erection into the oh-so-soft cleft of Aziraphale’s arse and started planting wet, slow kisses down the back of Aziraphale’s neck and across the thick planes of his back. He was pleased to hear the angel keen high in his throat and thrust back against Crowley's cock. 

“Oh Crowley. Oh yes. Yes. I’ve needed you for so long. I was so lonely without you. You feel so very good.” he reached back a hand and placed it on Crowley’s narrow hip, urging him closer. Crowley rubbed up against the angel’s silky soft backside and lavished his neck and shoulders with kisses. He simultaneously reached around and grabbed the angel’s now rock hard cock with his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Oh fuck!” Aziraphale cried out and Crowley actually pulled back in surprise.

“Now look at who’s using profanity,” he said admiringly, thrusting a bit harder against Aziraphale, because dear Satan in the Bottomless Pit, the sound of that word on his angel’s lips made him _feel things_.

“I’m sorry Crowley, I got carried away”, Aziraphale’s earnest eyes as he looked back at Crowley would have made him laugh indulgently if he weren’t so busy being insanely aroused. 

“I like it angel. Feel free to use any profanity you wish.” He returned his attention to kissing the angel’s neck and gave his cock a gentle tug for emphasis. 

“Oh fuuuck. Oh Crowley. That feels so very good. Oh. I need you. I need you inside of me” The angel was panting and thrusting back against Crowley’s cock in a way that clearly illustrated what he wanted. 

Crowley leaned back a little and brought his free hand up to his mouth, sucking two of his fingers deep inside, wetting them with his saliva. He executed a quick spell to ensure that they wouldn’t dry in the cool air of the shop’s back room and then he gently probed at Aziraphale’s opening with his wet fingertips. Aziraphale moaned and thrust back against him, and so Crowley slowly sank his fingers inside the angel’s arse with one, long motion. 

“Oh fuck. Oh dear lord. Oh fuck!” Aziraphale appeared to really be getting into the profanity thing, and that, combined with the feel of him, so tight and hot around Crowley’s fingers had Crowley throbbing painfully in response. “Oh Crowley, please f-fuck me now. I’m ready. I’ve made myself ready for you. P-please” Aziraphale stuttered out, and Crowley could feel that this was true, that Aziraphale had made himself slick for Crowley. 

That was all the encouragement he needed. With one, fluid motion, he took himself in hand and sank himself slowly inside Aziraphale’s tight arsehole. The action pulled a long, low moan from both of them. Crowley bottomed out and sat there for a moment, gasping for breath, struggling to regain control of his traitorous human body, which was quite busy trying to get him to come as quick and as hard was possible. 

“Ooooh _Crowley_.” Aziraphale moaned Crowley’s name, dragged it out of his throat in one, long, low, broken sound. “Oh my darling. You feel so good filling me up.”. He reached a hot, hot hand back and placed it on Crowley’s hip. 

“Angel,” Crowley gritted out between clenched teeth. “You’re so hot… you’re so tight. Oh _fuck_ ” He didn’t trust himself to say more, and instead, concentrated on pulling out a bit and thrusting back in. Aziraphale cried out sharply and pulled with that hand on Crowley’s hip, trying to pull him in even farther. Crowley took this as a good sign that he was free to be a little rough, and so he pulled back again and thrust back into that tight heat with a sharp thrust of his hips and was rewarded by another hoarse cry from Aziraphale. 

“Crowley! Darling! _Yes_!” The angel jutted back against Crowley and that was all he needed to feel. He began pounding into Aziraphale, slowly and deliberately, allowing a few seconds between thrusts. Hammering Aziraphale into the arm of the sofa one forceful roll of his hips at a time. Each time he did so, Aziraphale would cry out. “Crowley!” “Fuck!” “Oh Lord!” “Oh dearest!” He kept pulling at Crowley with that steady hand on Crowley’s hip bone, pulling him deeper, harder. 

Soon, Crowley lost what little self control he had and sped up his thrusts. He stroked Aziraphale sporadically with his hand as he fucked him deep, wanting them both to go at the same time. Aziraphale was almost sobbing at this point, gasping out his pleasure. Crowley thought he might lose his mind at the feel of the angel’s body clenching around him, welcoming him into that deep, incredibly hot core of him. He felt his orgasm rushing towards him. His heart was full of love and his senses were full of Aziraphale. The angel’s smell and feel and the sound of him calling out Crowley’s name in that hoarse, ruined voice. It was beautiful. It was profound. It was searing hot. _It was all too much_. He felt himself tighten and clench and then his orgasm crested through him and he opened his mouth and spilled words out into the air of the shop as he came. 

“Oh fuck angel! I love you! I love you!” he groaned as he came hard, deep inside Aziraphale. 

He heard Aziraphale cry out again, felt him clench like a vice around Crowley's twitching cock, crying the demon’s name. He felt a hot wetness spill over his pumping fist on the angel’s prick. Crowley’s orgasm seemed to go on longer than he thought was technically possible, and through it all, he kept spilling out his heart, kept confessing his love, ended up whispering it into the sweat damp skin at the back of Aziraphale’s neck as he felt the spasms fade and recede at last. “I love you angel. I love you. I love you. I love you.” He couldn’t contain it any longer, and his pent up love was bleeding out of him in great, foolish heaves. 

It was as if a seal had been broken and the lid of the little box he’d been so carefully guarding for all these centuries had flipped open and spilled his feelings out into the world, out of his stupid mouth. He’d spilled his love inside of and all over Aziraphale.

The knowledge of what he’d said dawned on him far slower than it should have. He was so utterly ruined by the intensity of their lovemaking and by the soul destroying force of his orgasm, that it took him a few minutes of gasping, slack mouthed and loose against Aziraphale’s neck before he even realized what he’d done. 

And when he did realize it, he pulled away from Aziraphale, who was at this point also a shaking gasping, dazed looking creature in the shape of a plump angel. Crowley gently disengaged and waved awy the slick mess of their sex with a quick spell. He sat then, naked and confused and afraid, waiting for Aziraphale to turn around and look at him with pity in his eyes. Waiting for the angel to come to his senses and kick Crowley out onto the street. 

He was so distracted by his inner turmoil that he barely noticed the angel moving until Aziraphale settled next to him. The angel clasped Crowley’s hand in his own, interlacing their fingers and let his head come to rest on Crowley’s shoulder. “Put your arm around me my dear. I need to tell you something.” he said. Crowley was surprised not to be scolded or yelled at. Surprised by the lack of a stony silence. The angel was warm and sweet, and not at all angry with him, so he dared to put an arm around Aziraphale’s broad shoulders and pull him tight against Crowley’s side. 

The angel sighed deeply, then began speaking. “Crowley my darling.” he said “I am a soldier. And I must do as I’m told. I can’t disobey. Even if it meant having something I want very much. To even speak of it is a sin that is punishable by death if they were to find out. Our, physical... experimentation as it were, well that can be written off as a lark. I can say you tempted me into it. But something deeper…? It is quite forbidden”. He leaned back and turned towards Crowley and clasped Crowley's face in his hands, gazing steadily into his yellow eyes with sad hazel-green eyes, filled with a strong emotion Crowley couldn't quite pinpoint.

Crowley was suddenly angry, as if the anger had exploded inside him like a bullet. He wasn’t even really sure where it was coming from and was still a bit hazy on why. He was certain however, that his face must have twisted into a look of bitter resentment, for he saw Aziraphale’s expression grow sad and guarded in response. He gently but firmly took Aziraphale’s hands in his own and pulled them from where they rested against his cheeks. “That’s alright angel. I’m glad this is something you ‘ _want very much_ ’. Unfortunately, I am a bit beyond wanting you. I am _consumed_ with love for you. And so if you can’t stand up to your superiors for a filthy demon you’ve grown used to shagging, I’ll understand… Honestly, the love I feel for you is ripping me apart inside. If you don’t feel the same way, it might be best if we called it off right now.”

“Crowley no!” Aziraphale reached for Crowley as he stood from the sofa and snapped himself fully dressed in a split second. “That isn’t what I meant Crowley. Can’t you see? I simply cannot say those things to you! They’ll hear me! They’ll know that my… my… feelings have gone somewhere they shouldn’t. She’ll know!”

“Yes. Of course. _She’ll_ know. Wouldn’t want to go disappointing _mummy_ .” Crowley sneered as he stalked stiffly away from Aziraphale, towards the door. He knew he was being a complete and utter twat. He knew he was being cruel and inflexible, but he had just spilled out his love for the angel, only to be rejected, when he’d pictured Aziraphale falling into his arms and confessing his love back to Crowley. He was in no mood for Aziraphale’s caution. Aziraphale’s pity. Perhaps Aziraphale didn’t care for Crowley in that way at all, and this was simply an excuse to get out of saying it. Crowley _had_ said it and nothing had happened. Demons had not risen from the floor to pull him down to Hell and incinerate him.

The angel didn’t go after Crowley, and Crowley didn’t dare look back. He strode out of the shop and out to the Bentley, wiping angry tears from his face with the sleeve of his posh, useless suit. His posh suit that stood out so starkly against the dark, destroyed city of London. What a horrid, bloody war this was. What a horrid, bloody, useless war. And what a horrid, bloody, useless demon was he. In love with an angel. He’d really put his foot in it hadn’t he?

He wished he could simply sleep his way through the rest of the 20th century, but he was simultaneously so, so tired of sleeping. He knew he wouldn’t be able to stay away from Aziraphale for long, but he also knew he didn’t dare touch the angel again. Not in the way he longed to. They were on opposite sides. Aziraphale had made this very clear to Crowley. He was afraid he’d have to fight Crowley in the coming Great War. A war to make this current monstrosity of a nations-wide mass murder look like child’s play. 

Crowley flung himself into the Bentley and squealed off into the night, not even bothering to keep his headlamps turned off. He didn’t care if he were incinerated by a German bomb at this point. He only hoped it wouldn’t kill anyone else were they to drop one on him. 

He went home to his flat and proceeded to get very, very drunk.


	6. Chapter 6

1967 and Crowley watched as Aziraphale walked away from the Bentley. 

_You go to fast for me Crowley._ What the devil did that mean? He’d in fact slowed way way down in the past few decades. Ever since their time in the blitz, when Crowley had foolishly let a mind bending orgasm push words of love for the angel from his careless lips. It seemed the angel was still afraid. Still cautious. And now, as a result, Crowley was cautious too. 

They hadn’t seen each other since that night, but the taste of the angel’s lips still burned Crowley’s tongue. The feel of him, hot and willing and gasping beneath Crowley still haunted the demon’s dreams. And yet, he’d gone and ruined the whole thing. Ruined it by speaking what he’d known would be the only three words virtually guaranteed to cause their little experiment to fall to pieces. 

_I love you_

He wished now that he could take them back. That he could pull back the clock and unsay those words and make everything go back the way it had been. The two of them, meeting every few years to explore each other’s bodies and chat and drink and laugh together. 

Aziraphale had looked so sad, so worried as he’d handed over the thermos of holy water. Crowley knew how nervous the idea of giving it to Crowley made the angel, and he was grateful that Aziraphale had changed his mind at last (even without any prompting from Crowley), but he almost wanted to give it back, if it would make the angel smile again. 

_Perhaps one day we could, I don’t know, go for a picnic. Dine at the Ritz_

Aziraphale had sounded so dejected, as if he didn’t really believe the words he’d been saying. Crowley knew he’d been referring to their experimentation. Silly to keep calling it that. But what else was he to call it? ‘Making love’? Perish the thought. ‘Fraternizing’? Crowley shuddered at the illicit, illegal sound of that word. At least with 'Experimentation', one got the feeling that it was about learning and growing and discovering new things. Which was exactly what they’d done. 

They’d discovered that an angel would not burst into flames and fall instantly from heaven for copulating with a demon. Well, not literally anyway. Aziraphale certainly did seem to burst into a different sort of flame when Crowley touched him. Stroked him. Sucked him. Came inside of him. But not a flame that hurt. Only one that made the angel’s eyes light up with passion and joy. Crowley felt that delicious fire inside himself as well. His skin didn’t blister under the angel’s touch, like he’d been told it would by countless demon compatriots. It _did_ burn though. It burned with tingling flames of a different sort as Aziraphale stroked his hot, strong hands over Crowley’s back and arms, face and thighs and hips. 

And now the Experiment was over. Crowley hoped that they could continue their friendship, regardless of the fact that Aziraphale seemed not to want to be physical any longer. Their friendship had been a good one, and Crowley would rather spend eternity, pining for Aziraphale than he would spend an eternity without him. 

He was overjoyed when Aziraphale did start coming around again, sometime in the late nineties. Crowley had been hearing more and more whispers that the dreaded Apocalypse was approaching, and so had Aziraphale. They’d started meeting over tea, and then over drinks to discuss what would happen when the Great War did in fact begin, and this had morphed comfortably back into a well worn acquaintanceship. There was only so much time one could spend postulating on what Armagedon would look like, before the conversation drifted to things like music and art and literature and who this Kurt Cobain person _was_ anyway. Aziraphale seemed to be laboring under the false impression that he was a classical composer, and Crowley was only too happy to enlighten him. 

Things went along quite smoothly, if platonically, another decade or so, and then Crowley was handed a heavy wicker basket, in the graveyard of a church, and everything went to shite. 

They’d ended up drinking late into the night and hatching the plot to help raise the antiChrist. Which had backfired miserably of course when it turned out to be the wrong boy. 

Events had sped up so quickly then. The madcap rush to find the real antiChrist. Increased pressures on them from their supervisors to produce results, when the only result Crowley was interested in, involved Aziraphale safe and sound and wrapped up in his arms somewhere far from this horrible circus that was the approaching End Of Days. 

He’d said as much. Had foolishly invited Aziraphale to run away with him. Had suggested that they “go off together,” like the lovesick idiot he was just beneath the surface of his casual, sarcastic facade. 

And Aziraphale had rejected him. _Again_. Had virtually yelled his rejection into Crowley’s face. 

_Not anymore! It’s over!_

Crowley had immediately withdrawn behind a shield of disaffected nonchalance. _Have a nice doomsday_ he’d said and walked away, arms swinging angrily, back stiff, head tucked down into the collar of his black jacket. He’d turned and walked away as quickly as he could, unable to bear looking at Aziraphale’s beautiful, anguished face for one more second. 

Things had gotten rather strange then. The bookshop had burned down and Crowley had almost gone with it. He’d run around inside, flames nipping at his cuffs and trouser legs, screaming Aziraphale’s name, his heart in his throat. He was fairly certain he’d be haunted by that moment for many years to come. Watching all of Azirphale’s precious, beloved books burn. Watching the white-orange flames lick at the edges of pages that up until this point had mostly been touched by the soft, plump fingertips of a bibliophile angel. He didn’t have words for the pure, unadulterated pain he’d felt rising up inside him when he’d thought Aziraphale had been murdered. He couldn’t be sure who’d done it, but he longed to rip their throats out with his teeth.

He’d gone straightway to the nearest pub and proceeded to drink himself into a stupor, only to be confronted by a ghostly vision of his angel in the seat across from him. One minute, he’d been alone, the next, in a flash of lightning, he was gazing at Aziraphale’s wobbly, transparent face. The feeling of relief that flooded through him at the sight of the angel, still alive somewhere, even if beyond the earthly veil, was heady and sobering at the same time. 

_Stuff happened. I lost my best friend_

Even after their fight by the bandstand, Crowley’s subsequent repeated requests that they run away to Alpha Centauri together and Aziraphale’s _third rejection_ , and even after the bookshop had burned down, Crowley still couldn’t keep his fool mouth shut. Perhaps it was part of being a demon. He had no tact. No real sense of decorum. He apparently existed to hurl affection and love confessions at Aziraphale’s feet, only to have them rebuffed again and again. It was a thankless profession. 

Luckily, Aziraphale had seemed not to notice the 'best friend' comment, responding only _so sorry to hear it._ As if Crowley were referring to someone else entirely. 

After all that worry, the Armageddon hadn’t happened. Yes, Satan had arisen. Yes, the Four Horsemen had been called, but it had all sort of _fizzled out_ in the end. Mostly due to a brave little boy, and an angel threatening a demon 

_Come up with something! Or I’ll never talk to you again!_

Crowley would basically do anything short of murder a child (he wasn’t personally up for killing kids) to stay in Aziraphale’s good graces. Stopping time for five minutes was small potatoes really.

______________________________________________

The body swap had been a surprise. Crowley had worked it out after reading and rereading the singed scrap of prophecy from Aziraphale’s pocket. _Choose your faces wisely_. 

“I think this means that we need to … swap faces,” he said to Aziraphale. Aziraphale, who was staring into his wine glass as if looking down into the grave of a loved one. 

The angel looked up in surprise, seeming only now remembering that Crowley sat next to him on the demon’s massive, black leather sofa. “Whatever do you mean Crowley?”

“I mean angel, that we need to swap faces… swap appearances. If we’re to evade punishment. Think about it. I killed Ligur with holy water… your holy water in fact. If we know anything about our bosses, it’s that they have a fucked up sense of irony when it comes to punishments. Both Heaven and Hell just _love_ irony and symbolism. It’s sort of their thing isn’t it?”

Aziraphale was forced to agree. “Well yes, they do rather. So by your thinking…”

“They’ll likely want to use holy water on me and Hellfire on you right?”

Aziraphale looked dismayed, but nodded nonetheless and downed the remainder of his glass of wine in one, long gulp. 

“So, we need to… trade faces as it were.” Crowley continued. “Swap appearances, so that I can go up to Heaven and you can go down to Hell and so our punishments won’t work on either of us.”

“Crowley… that’s… that’s ludicrous” Aziraphale looked unconvinced. But Crowley was almost certain this is what the prophecy meant. 

“It’s not really though, angel. I think we have to give it a try.”

“Well… alright then. How should we.. erm go about it?”

Crowley wasn’t sure. “Hmmm. How about we take hands and focus really hard on what the other looks like, and see if that...works?” It sounded pretty lame and slapdash now that he’d said it outloud, but he wasn’t sure how else to do this. 

“Oh. Well, if you think that would work, I’d certainly be up for giving it a try.” 

Aziraphale stood and so did Crowley. They faced each other and awkwardly held hands. Crowley closed his eyes and felt Aziraphale’s soft, uncalloused hands resting in his long, spindly ones. He pictured Aziraphale’s sweet, rosy face. His large, sea colored eyes. His sweet mouth, curled in a gentle smile. He pictured Aziraphale’s broad shoulders and thick waist, with that pleasing little spare tire of soft fat around his hips that Crowley had so liked to grip in his hands when they’d… _focus Crowley! Focus!_ He swiftly redirected his thoughts back to less erotic images of Aziraphale, and thought of his strangely small little feet, his sturdy calves, his strong thighs. 

He felt the change begin slowly, starting with a tingling sensation all over. This quickly morphed into a thickening of his hands and a thinning of Aziraphale’s where Crowley had them clasped in his own. He dared to open his eyes and saw… himself. They’d done it! They’d swapped!

He released Aziraphale’s hands and stepped back. “You can open your eyes now angel,” he said, almost stuttering at the sound of Aziraphale’s sonorous voice coming out of his own mouth. 

Aziraphale opened his eyes and immediately gave a sharp little yelp of surprise at seeing his own body standing in front of him. “Oh my!” he exclaimed. “This is rather strange!”

“Yes it is,” Crowley agreed. “You look good angel.” He winked and Aziraphale laughed, a cackle with just a touch of hysteria coloring the edges of it. 

“So do you my dear. It looks as if you’ve started eating well at last”. 

After a few hours spent emulating each other’s mannerisms, they felt somewhat certain that they had a chance at evading death. Having spent six thousand years together in some capacity or another meant that they were able to ape each other quite well after a bit of practice.

They ended up drinking again, on the sofa, throwing sly glances at each other. It was so incredibly strange to Crowley to see his own body from outside of it, and even stranger, to look down and see himself encased in Aziraphale’s body. The angel was plush and soft over sheets of thick muscle. It was unusual for Crowley to feel so heavy and strong. 

He could tell by the way that Aziraphale kept looking down at himself that he was having similar thoughts. It wasn’t until he caught Aziraphale stroking his hands repeatedly up and down his now thin, lanky legs and saw a blush high up on his now sharp cheekbones that Crowley realized something was _up._

“Angel,” he asked, with a hint of teasing to his voice “are you... are you getting aroused?”

“What? No! Of course not!” Aziraphale responded, shocked. He did not however, Crowley noticed, stop stroking his (Crowley’s) legs. Almost as if it were a subconscious act. 

“You are! You’re _turned on_ you naughty angel! I can tell, remember? You’ve gone all flushed and you’re feeling me up like I was a new first eddition.” 

Aziraphale relented. “Fine! Perhaps I _am_ feeling a bit randy. I’ve never had an experience like this before. It _is_ quite erotic to look down and see your… well, to be perfectly honest, your beautiful body. I may be an angel Crowley, but I still have desires. And I’ve always found your human corporation quite appealing. You know that.”

“Appealing huh?” Crowley wanted to tease Azirapahle further, but he wasn’t one to talk. He’d also become erect at the feel of resting inside the angel’s soft, delicious body, at being so very close to this expanse of lovely flesh he’d longed to stroke for decades. “Shall we… I don’t know… have a wank?” he asked. It wouldn’t hurt to ask would it? 

“ _A wank_? Crowley! Really! That would be… well, that would be quite inappropriate.”

But though the angel protested outwardly, Crowley could see his now narrow chest rising and falling faster at the thought. His hands were rhythmically squeezing the tops of his (Crowley’s) long, lean thighs in a way that completely contradicted his words.

“Come on angel. You know you want to peel my pants off and get your hands on my cock. I can see it written all over my own face. And I hereby give you total and absolute blanket consent to do whatever you want to my body. Just leave it in the same condition you found it in.”

“I…. I…” Aziraphale’s mouth was gaping open in surprise, but he was now shifting uncomfortably on the sofa next to Crowley, his body language telegraphing what was likely a very stiff erection. An erection that was revealed only by a bulge in the front of his now skin tight jeans. Crowley could tell the angel was weakening.

“No one will ever know but me,” Crowley said with a wicked grin.

“Well… alright then” Aziraphale relented, and Crowley’s heart leapt up into his throat and began pounding away like the hooves of a racehorse. “Right here? On the sofa?” Aziraphale asked, and Crowley nodded, gulping audibly at the idea of what was about to transpire.

“But only if it’s really OK with you, angel,” he said, poised and ready to undo Aziraphale’s pants, but waiting for confirmation that this was what Aziraphale truly wanted. “It’s your body. Feel free to use mine however you want to, but I don’t wanna … you know… take liberties.”

“Oh, erm yes. Please feel free to enjoy yourself my dear.” He paused here for a second and Crowley held himself back from reaching for the angel’s (now his) cock until he could hear what Aziraphale had to say next. “Only… is it alright if, if I… watch you?”

“Of course angel. Don’t be silly. Wouldn’t be as much fun otherwise. Feel free to narrate as well if the mood strikes.” His smile deepened as he watched a blush he’d only ever seen before in the mirror spreading across the angel’s face. 

“Alright then” Aziraphale said, clearly nervous and incredibly aroused. “I’m going to unzip your trousers now if that’s alright.”

“Same” Crowley said, and they both focused briefly on the task of unbuttoning and unzipping themselves. Then, with a wordless look of agreement, they both pulled their trousers down to the tops of their thighs, Crowley’s thighs now being thick and soft and silky in a way that made his breath catch in his throat. “Dear god angel, your thighs are a thing of beauty,” he rasped out, stroking them with both hands briefly before wrapping a hand around the thick, pale cock that jutted up at him from its nest of white-blond curls. 

He gasped, and heard Aziraphale gasp next to him and looked over to see that the angel had taken his (Crowley’s) cock in his hand as well. “Oh Crowley, you feel so good my darling. Touching you this way. It’s so exciting.” The angel’s words, in Crowley’s voice, breathless and tense with desire, were deeply arousing, but also strangely cathartic. In only the way that being praised by oneself when one has a millennia old self esteem problem could be. Not to mention the reappearance of the words _my darling_ , which the angel had retired decades ago. Here was incontrovertible evidence that Aziraphale still desired him. It was a heady mix. 

“You feel good too angel, I love having your silky cock in my hand.” Upon saying this, Crowley started stroking his (Aziraphale’s) cock, gently, starting out slowly. It was a fantastically arousing sight. Aziraphale’s hand on Aziraphale’s beautiful cock, with Crowley in control of every move that hand made. He groaned in pleasure and cast a glance over to Aziraphale to see that the angel was doing the same, slowly stroking Crowley’s long, darker cock with a slender hand. He watched as Aziraphale’s now-ginger head fell back against the sofa and his mouth fell open and he moaned softly at what his hand was doing. “Oh god Crowley. Yes… you feel so good.”

Crowley sped up his strokes a bit on the lovely, thick prick in his hand and squeezed a bit more firmly as he did so, pulling a gasp from his lips. Aziraphale looked over at the sound and groaned at the sight of his own body being pleasured. 

Crowley brought his hand to his mouth and tongued it wet with saliva and then returned to stroking. The slick sensation of his hand on this beautiful cock, framed by the milky tops of Aziraphale’s thighs. The sight of Aziraphale’s thickness and stiffness gleaming wetly in his fist as he pumped, and knowing he was the one doing the stroking… it was getting him there very quickly. He reached his other hand down and stroked the soft scrotum that hung below his cock and moaned at the feeling of it. 

“I’m so close Crowley,” Aziraphale whispered roughly, his voice barely audible on the wings of his rushing breath. Crowley looked over and saw that the angel had his narrow hips thrust up and was pumping away swiftly on Crowley’s cock, which was now a deep red and was leaking precum onto his flat belly in long, gleaming dribbles. 

“Me too, angel. Me too. Come with me. Lets go together.”

“Yes my darling. _Yes_.”

“I’m… I’m…”

“Yes my darling. Yes. _Yes_ . Now. _Now_ ” Aziraphale’s eyes squeezed shut for a moment and he groaned low in his throat.

“Ahhhh! _Fuck_ ” Crowley felt himself explode inside, pleasure twisting almost painfully in his gut as sweet, hot semen spilled from his cock and over the knuckles of his pumping hand. The sound of Aziraphale’s voice, coming out of his mouth, crying out his own pleasure only drove him to greater heights of ecstasy. He looked over in time to see Aziraphale, himself embodied by Aziraphale, gasp out a strangled cry and shoot spurts of semen up across the black silk of his shirt and over his own pumping hand. 

They alternated watching each other and looking down at themselves while they both continued to spill out their pleasure for a few moments more. Eventually, they just lay there, gasping for breath in the aftermath.

Soon, their breathing returned to normal. Aziraphale waved away the mess of his semen and so did Crowley and they both did themselves up again, shooting one another embarrassed glances along the way. 

“That was quite lovely my dear” Aziraphale said, his shy, flirtatious tone sounding strange in Crowley’s voice. 

“Yeah. It was hot,” Crowley responded with a sly grin. “I figured, when are we going to get another chance?” Aziraphale nodded, grinning back. 

It felt strange, not holding the angel and stroking his hair and kissing him as he normally did after orgasms that involved Aziraphale, but seeing as this would basically just involve him having a cuddle with himself, it felt a little pointless. 

Soon they were fully dressed and standing at the door to Crowley’s flat, preparing to make their way to their agreed upon locations. Aziraphale took Crowley’s face in his hands and looked into his eyes. It was a touch disorienting to be on the receiving end of that yellow gaze, a color he’d only ever seen in the mirror or in the snake house at the zoo.

“Come back to me” Aziraphale said. 

Crowley, rendered breathless by the open yearning in his own face, responded “Yes. Yes I will. I’ll come back to you.” They kissed then, briefly, chastely, and took the lift down to the street and then parted ways. Crowley was full of so many feelings. Fear that they would fail. Joy that Aziraphale appeared to still care deeply for him. And of course, the memories of their mutual masturbation were still echoing through his mind, distracting him. His heart went out to his poor angel, who’d have to brave the pits of Hell to save him. And he was afraid for himself as well. Afraid he wouldn’t be convincing enough to save Aziraphale from a hoard of avenging angels. 

There was nothing for it but to forge ahead. Crowley walked away from Aziraphale and towards the angle’s bookshop, his heart in his throat. 


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I completely rewrote the sex scene at the end of this chapter. I hated the original one. If you liked it, I'll be happy to send it to you via email or maybe add it on as an extra chapter, but I frankly found it dull. I hope this one is enjoyable :)

It worked! Beyond all expectations, _it worked_. The looks on the faces of those pompous asses as Crowley luxuriated happily inside the massive pillar of Hellfire they’d brought up from Below in order to immolate Aziraphale was priceless. Their fear and confusion was like sweet ambrosia on his tongue. He’d pay them back for all the millennia of rude comments and derisive jabs they’d tossed in the angel’s direction. Aziraphale had told him often of how thoughtless and cruel Gabriel could be. 

After they’d swapped bodies, when the angel had made one too many comments about Crowley perhaps feeling uncomfortable with how “plush” his corporation was now, Crowley had asked what he meant by that. He’d always loved Aziraphale’s softness and plumpness. The angel’s cushy body was arousing in the extreme to a demon who was all pointed edges and long limbs, and so he’d been lost on what Aziraphale was trying to say. 

“He, well, he told me that I needed to… erm… ‘lose the gut’” the angel had said, referring to Gabriel, casting his eyes down at the floor and frowning, his now long, slender hands coming up reflexively to cover his now flat belly. 

“He what?!” Crowley was shocked and angry. “Angel, if you attempt to lose one ounce of your delightful body fat, I will start buying you pastries by the truck load to make sure you gain it back.” He’d grabbed Aziraphale by the shoulders and looked him deeply in the eyes, hoping to make his feelings quite clear. “Aziraphale” he said, hoping the rare use of the angel’s full name would drive home to him how Crowley really felt “You are _beautiful_ . Your body is _beautiful._ It makes me feel… well… its best not to get into too much detail about how it makes me feel, but suffice it to say, you, your body, _this body_ ,” he gestured briefly downwards at his belly and legs and feet, “Is gorgeous and sexy and lovely just the way it is. You’re gorgeous, just the way you are”

Aziraphale had given Crowley a hopeful look, tinged with suspicion in his now-yellow eyes, as if he couldn't quite believe the demon's words, and Crowley had sworn at that moment to do his best to get back at Gabriel for his cold, cruelty. And so he took a deep breath, and breathed out a long stream of fire in Gabriel’s direction, as if he were a dragon, trying to dispatch a pesky knight. The angels jumped back in surprised horror and Crowley swore he could smell Gabriel’s eyebrows burning. 

They’d swiftly ushered him to the doors of the lift after that, with hurried promises to leave he and “Crowley” alone from this point onward. Crowley almost jumped for joy when the lift doors closed, but then he remembered that Aziraphale might still be down in Hell. Might still be on trial. Or worse, the demons might have devised a less ironic, less fitting punishment for Crowley’s crimes than death by holy water. 

With his heart pounding, he caught a cab for Berkeley Square. Once he arrived, he searched frantically for the angel, for a tall, slender figure in black with copper hair. There were a few close calls when a young goth boy and an elderly lady with a flaming coif made his heart almost leap out of his chest, but at last, he approached the bench where they’d decided to meet and saw his own familiar shape, sitting far more primly than he’d ever sat, dark glasses still in place. 

They both played it cool, knowing they were in public. Crowley sat down, and after ascertaining that no one was looking, they grasped hands and swapped back. It felt good in a way to Crowley to be back in his own body, but he suddenly, strangely missed the warm, soft feeling of Aziraphale’s thick angelness surrounding him, like an affectionate embrace. It made him want to cuddle up close to Aziraphale and get back to that softness and heat. He couldn’t of course. They were in public, surrounded by humans, in broad daylight. It would be a bit odd to grab the angel and wrap around him like a heat-starved snake. 

And what if Aziraphale no longer wanted physical closeness with Crowley? They were free now, free from prying eyes, but Crowley could still vividly remember each one of Aziraphale’s rejections. Even though their mutual wank session had erased some of this fear, a lot of it still remained. The angel was conflicted and capricious, cautious and fussy at the best of times. By comparison, Crowley was a white hot flame of burning certainty. He wanted one thing and one thing only in all the realms of Heaven and Hell and earth. He wanted the angel. In his arms, against his lips, beneath him in a bed, beside him at the park, across from him in countless restaurants. He wanted _Aziraphale_ . _All_ of him. _All_ the time. It had been six thousand years of not having nearly enough, and Crowley was _starving_.

His want and his love and his yearning had always been bottomless and deep and never ending. Aziraphale by contrast was thoughtful, hesitant, reserved. Perhaps it came along with being an angel? Crowley wasn’t sure. The only thing he _was_ sure of was his burning love for Aziraphale. It would hurt to put himself out there, only to have Aziraphale give him that sad look and turn away… again. 

And so Crowley kept his distance in the park. He politely invited the angel to lunch, nodded in agreement when the angel suggested that they go to the Ritz. It wasn’t lost on him that ‘dining at the Ritz’ had last been spoken about by Aziraphale right before he’d left the Bentley back in 1967. Maybe Aziraphale was suggesting that they finally explore the freedom of their new connection? Crowley was not about to assume this. 

They walked together to the restaurant and were (of course) shown to a lovely table, right in front of the piano. They seated themselves and Crowley watched with barely contained delight as Aziraphale ordered no less than five hors d’oeuvres and three entrees. Lamb braised in cherry reduction, chicken stuffed with basil and black currents, shrimp wrapped in phyllo dough pastry and filled with melted gruyere cheese and baby spinach, chocolate tarts, dusted with powdered sugar. The angel worked his way slowly and sensually through all of it, offering Crowley bites here and there that Crowley took gladly, savoring the sight of Aziraphale enjoying his food far more the the taste of the food itself. 

They toasted with their champagne flutes. “To the world”, and the soft, shy look Aziraphale gave Crowley then had the demon hopeful that perhaps the angel had finally let down his complex system of emotional boundaries. That perhaps he might want to let Crowley in. But still he held back. Kept things polite. Smiled indulgently and made little quips to make Aziraphale laugh. He dared not reach for the angel’s hand, where it rested between them on the table. Dared not press his knee against the angel’s knee under the tablecloth. He was aching to touch Aziraphale, but afraid of how the angel would react and so he leaned back in his chair and watched from behind his shades. Watched and smiled as Aziraphale pulled bite after luscious bite from his fork and chewed happily, sighing in pleasure. 

They both drank several glasses of very good wine, and afternoon morphed slowly into evening as they sat and talked, traded stories, laughed. Aziraphale’s eyes were shining with joy and mirth and Crowley wasn’t sure he’d ever seen the angel so happy. He reminded himself that Aziraphale’s happiness and safety were far more important than how the angel felt about him. It was a blessing just to have the angel beside him and to have won their freedom. 

Eventually, when they’d eaten and drunk as much as was publicly decent to do so, they got up to leave. Crowley paid the tab and they walked out to the street. “Well,” Crowley began, meaning to suggest that he needed to head home to get some sleep, but Aziraphale cut him off. 

  
“Would you perhaps come to mine for a drink Crowley?”

Crowley tried not to agree too quickly, but probably came off like the eager dog he was just beneath the surface. “Yeah. Sure angel. Sounds good”. 

Aziraphale had told Crowley over lunch of how the shop had miraculously been restored from the fire, new first additions and all. They caught a cab over and were soon standing in Aziraphale’s foyer, looking shyly at one another. Crowley yearned to grab Aziraphale and pull him into his arms, but he savagely beat that urge into submission and casually asked for a drink instead.  
  


“Right. Right. Yes.” Aziraphale seemed to shake himself out of a trance and went to get them a bottle of scotch and two tumblers. Crowley made his way to the back room and settled in on the sofa, careful to leave Aziraphale room to sit beside him without looking like that’s specifically what he wanted. 

The angel returned a few minutes later, the bottle under his arm, the tumblers grasped in each hand. He placed the glasses down on his coffee table and poured them both a healthy portion of the deep, amber liquid. He then (to Crowley’s utter relief) sat down next to the demon on the sofa. Aziraphale’s leg was close to Crowley’s, close enough to reach out and touch, but not pressed against him the way Crowley would have preferred. Regardless, the demon kept his hands to himself. He was dedicated to giving Aziraphale his space. The proverbial ball was in Aziraphale’s court. 

They both sipped at their drinks in silence for a few minutes. A silence that was growing more uncomfortable for Crowley by the second. He wasn’t sure what to say to break it however. The things he longed to say: _I’ve never stopped loving you,_ or, _you mean the entire world to me_ , or, more accurately _I want to remove your clothes and paint your skin with my tongue until you lose your mind with pleasure_ would definitely fall under the category of pushing things at this point. So he simply waited, and continued sipping at his scotch, letting the fiery liquid warm his throat and chest and waited for Azirpahale to make the first move. 

When the angel finally cleared his throat to speak, Crowley almost jumped out of his skin. “Crowley, my dear,” Aziraphale began, turning slightly in his seat to look at Crowley with large, sad eyes. “I have a few things I need to say to you.” 

Crowley felt his stomach drop. This was it. This was the moment that the angel told him his feelings didn’t match Crowley’s. That a shag every once in a while was all well and good but that the angel didn’t love him. He did not respond however. Instead he sat, waiting like a man waits for the gallows. Sure that this would be the moment he’d been dreading for years now. The moment Aziraphale rejected him completely at last. 

“It would be far easier to say what I have to say if you’d remove those blasted shades, my dear,” Aziraphale’s voice was soft and gentle. Crowley complied, feeling vulnerable and scared, but removing his sunglasses anyway and placing them on the coffee table next to the bottle of scotch. He kept his eyes trained on his own hands, laced in his black clad lap and waited for the guillotine blade to fall. 

“Won’t you look at me Crowley?” Aziraphale had grown a little plaintive. 

“Can’t,” replied Crowley, mumbled the single word into his narrow chest, where his heart was currently trying to find a safe place to run and hide. Perhaps somewhere behind his spleen. 

“What do you mean you can’t? Simply turn your head and look at me dearest. I need to know that you understand me, and that’s best done when we can look each other in the eyes, don’t you think?”

“Fine angel. Whatever you want,” Crowley couldn’t help but sound a bit grumpy, but he turned and looked Aziraphale in the eyes. He was shocked by what he saw there. A deep well of strong emotion. The angel’s grey-green eyes, always so changeable, but always beautiful were shining with unshed tears and his lovely brows were knit, causing the charming little wrinkle in his forehead that always made an appearance when he was worried or sad. 

“There now. That’s better,” Aziraphale said gently, turning a little further in his seat on the sofa so that he could face Crowley properly. “I’ve been meaning to say these things to you for such a long time, but what with our opposing sides, and the approaching Apocalypse and all, there just never seemed to be the right time… until now.”

“You can just spit it out, angel.” Crowley hissed, but without anger “No need for all the preamble”.

Aziraphale looked a little crestfallen, but he rallied. “Very well then. Crowley. I love you.” He said. 

Crowley wasn’t expecting that. “Oh. Well... of course angel. I love you too. You know that. We’ve known one another for quite a lo-”

“No Crowley. I don’t think you understand” the angel interrupted, placing a warm hand on Crowley’s forearm. “I am _in love with you_. Quite deeply in fact. Quite profoundly in love with you.” Here he paused and placed his other hand over his chest and took a deep breath. “My but it feels good to finally say that!” He smiled a large, bright smile and Crowley felt his heart nearly explode at the sight of it.

“Whu?” he asked inarticulately, still struggling to keep up with the unfolding of events. 

“Just shush up for a moment my dear. I’m not finished yet” Aziraphale patted his arm as if he were a recalcitrant grandchild, and so Crowley shut his mouth with a snap and waited for the angel to finish. 

“I fear that I’ve been quite unfair to you for a long time my dear” He continued. “I’ve pushed you away and denied you and I’ve kept you at arm’s length for so very long. But you must realize Crowley, that I was scared. I was terrified that my love for you would get us both killed, or worse. That they’d kill you in front of me and make me watch. There were so many ways it could have gone horribly wrong. Saying ‘I love you’, even when I felt it so very strongly, well it was terrifying to even consider”.

He paused again, and a single tear broke free from the confines of his eye and rolled slowly down his soft cheek. Crowley longed to capture it with his tongue, to share the taste of the angel’s tears in a passionate kiss, but he kept still and silent and waited. 

“I’ve been a fool. A simple minded, cowardly fool. I should have told you how I felt millennia ago. Crowley, I’ve loved you since the very beginning. I simply lacked the courage to let you know. And so, if you’ve been driven away by my coldness and my resistance, I’ll understand. I simply had to tell you how I felt.”. More tears had joined the first one, and now Aziraphale was crying in earnest. 

Crowley couldn’t bear it another second. He climbed into the angel’s lap and took his wet face in his hands and kissed him. Azirpahale let out what sounded like a soft sigh of relief as Crowley’s lips met his, and his arms tightened reflexively around Crowley’s waist and pulled the demon close to him. Crowley kissed him gently, slowly, lovingly, trying to pour all of his heartfelt emotion into the movements of his lips against Aziraphale’s. Aziraphale reached up and grabbed Crowley’s face and pulled him away to gaze lovingly into his eyes. 

“Will you ever forgive me?” he asked, fear still residing in those hazel depths, the sight of which made Crowley’s heart clench inside his chest. 

“Of course angel. _Of course_. There’s nothing to forgive. I would have waited another six thousand years for you.”

“But you should never have had to wait,” Aziraphale said through a fresh sob. Crowley stopped that sob with his mouth as he returned to kissing Aziraphale and for a while they were pleasantly engaged in snogging each other silly. 

Eventually Aziraphale pulled away again, and Crowley barely suppressed a groan of frustration. He didn’t want to stop kissing Aziraphale for several hours yet. The angel’s next words however shocked him into slack mouthed stillness. 

“Marry me” Aziraphale said. “Marry me won’t you? I know its a human custom, and not legally binding for us. But… but I want to show you that I’m with you, you and only you for the rest of our time on earth… and beyond. If you’ll have me” He gazed up at Crowley, love glowing in his eyes, his face so very earnest, and now it was Crowley’s turn to fight back tears. 

“Yes. Yes of course I’ll marry you angel. I’d be honored to”. He managed to get the words out through the swelling of a lump in his throat and the pounding of the blood in his ears. “I love you to distraction. I’d love to call you my husband. Let’s do that. Yes”. 

Aziraphale disengaged from Crowley for a moment to fish around in the pocket of his ancient jacket. “I’m certainly glad you said yes Crowley, otherwise, I’d have felt a fool for lugging this around for the past twenty years”. He pulled his hand out to reveal a small, black velvet box. “I hope you like it. I had it made special, back in 1997 I think. Couldn’t get the nerve up to propose until now”. 

Crowley stared at the box in Azirpahale’s hand with his mouth hanging open. My, but the angel was full of surprises tonight. He sat back in Aziraphale’s lap and took the box with trembling fingers and pried it open. Inside, cushioned on a small, black velvet pillow, lay a simple, gold ring. He took it in his hand and looked at Aziraphale, as if uncertain of what this strange object was used for. Aziraphale laughed weakly and took the ring from Crowley’s numb hand and slipped it onto his ring finger. “There” he said, with a small smile. “Would you put mine on dearest? It’s only right that there be an exchange”.

Crowley looked down and noticed that Aziraphale held another gold band in his fingers. He took it, as if in a dream and slipped it onto Aziraphale’s plump, beautiful ring finger. As the ring settled snuggling in its rightful place, Aziraphale broke into another of his megawatt smiles, and Crowleh smiled back like a fool. “I love you, my angel husband.” he said, feeling his heart swell with affection. 

“I love you too my dear, demon husband. Always and forever.”

“Always and forever” Crowley repeated, unable to wipe the dopey grin off his face, and remembering suddenly that he no longer had to hide how he felt. “You know angel." he continued. "If we’re married now, I think it’s high time we consummated this marriage”. He punctuated his statement with a lascivious little roll of his hips into Aziraphale’s lap and watched as the angel’s eyelids fluttered and his mouth fell slack in response. 

“Oh yes dearest” Aziraphale breathed, looking up at Crowley with blatant desire painted across his face, breath coming faster. “Yes, rather. We should absolutely get to it” 

“Perhaps in a real bed this time?” Crowley suggested, raising an eyebrow. 

“I couldn’t agree more” Aziraphale replied, then snapped his fingers, and Crowley found himself lying with the angel, upstairs on Aziraphale’s lumpy but passably comfortable mattress upstairs in the angel’s bedroom. “Now,” Aziraphale said softly, running a firm hand up Crowley’s thigh to his hip and gazing down at him with fire in his eyes “How shall we begin my dearest?”

Crowley pulled him down into a fierce kiss, arching his body off the bed to press himself against Aziraphale, to revel in the feeling of the angel’s stiff erection under the material of his trousers. He felt the hand on his hip tighten possessively, and felt Aziraphale press back against him, and he moaned into the kiss. 

Aziraphale was lying against him, but to the side, leaning over Crowley, where the demon lay on his back on the bed, and he moved his hand from Crowley’s narrow, boney hip and began using it to slowly unbutton Crowley’s slinky black shirt. “Mmmm” He murmured against Crowley’s lips. “It’s always so much fun undressing you my dear. You wear such silky, slippery things. Such _tight_ trousers”, as if to illustrate his point, he reached his hand down and pressed it over the stiff bulge in the front of Crowley’s skin tight jeans, causing Crowley to gasp and press up into his touch. 

“Yes, that’s it my dearest. I can’t wait to suck you. I can’t wait to push myself inside you and fuck you nice and slow”

Crowley could barely believe his ears. Aziraphale, shy, hesitant, cautious Aziraphale was whispering filthy, searing hot words to Crowley between kisses. He hadn’t quite ever seen this side of the angel… and he _loved_ it. “Angel” he said out loud, finding himself suddenly breathless. “If you keep talking like that, I’ll come before you can get my trousers off”. 

“Hmm. Then perhaps I’d better rush things along shall I?” Aziraphale gave Crowley a wicked grin and snapped his fingers. Crowley was suddenly completely nude. He gasped out loud at the feel of the cool air touching his skin, and then gasped again as Aziraphale leaned down and placed a hot, sucking kiss against his collar bone. The angel was still fully dressed, and the contrast between his proper, buttoned up appearance and Crowley’s bare skin only served to turn him on further. 

“S’not fair angel. You’ve still got your clothes on” he said weakly, the feeling of Aziraphale’s lips, busily sucking what was probably an impressive bruise into the sensitive skin of his chest causing his mind to struggle with the speaking of coherent words.

“Yes my dearest. Tonight is going to be about you and giving you pleasure.” Aziraphale replied, his hot breath brushing Crowley’s skin. He leaned up and looked Crowley in the eyes with a determined expression. “I’ve made you wait a long time to give you all of myself, and I want to do it properly. My darling husband, please let me give you pleasure. Yes?”

“Mmff. Alright angel. Of course.” Crowley wasn’t about to disagree. He felt his cock twitch between them at the promise of the angel lavishing attention on him. Aziraphale must have felt it too, for he grinned.

“Does your cock want my mouth on it?” he asked, almost conversationally. Crowley could do nothing but nod enthusiastically, and so Aziraphale began working his way down the demon’s body, lavishing his chest and then stomach with wet, open mouthed kisses. Crowley writhed under Aziraphale’s lips, sighing and gasping in pleasure at the tingling sensations that shot through him with each slide of the angel’s mouth against his skin.. He wrapped his fingers in the angel’s soft, wild hair and tightened his grip until he heard Aziraphale groan in response. 

“Fuck angel. Your _mouth_ ” It was all he could get out at the moment, but he thought it adequately expressed what he was feeling. 

“Just wait my darling” Aziraphale whispered, his breath tickling Crowley’s lower stomach. “Just wait.”

Crowley didn’t have to wait long, for Aziraphale soon shimmied his way down to the demon’s straining cock, which he gripped firmly in his hand. He gave Crowley one, long lick with his wide tongue and Crowley cried out and arched up off the bed. “Ah! Oh fuck angel!”

“Shall I take you in my mouth now darling? Would you like that?”

Crowley would have laughed if he weren’t so insanely aroused. “If you don’t, I’ll go mad angel. _Please suck me_ ” Crowley emphasized his point by thrusting his hips up a little in Aziraphale’s grip. Aziraphale gave him one more smile that belonged nowhere near an angel’s lips and slid his mouth down on Crowley’s cock in one smooth motion. He sank his lips to the hilt and Crowley gasped loudly at the feel of that wet heat engulfing him. 

Aziraphale pulled up swiftly and then sank back down again, with what felt like an aching, glacial slowness, the movement of his lips accompanied by Crowley’s cries of pleasure. Despite the slow pace of the angel’s strokes on his cock, Crowley felt himself rushing towards orgasm. He pulled back gently with his hands, pulled Aziraphale up and off of him 

“Angel, I’m going to come very soon if you keep that up” He gasped out between deep breaths.

“Please do my dearest. I love it when you lose control” Aziraphale grinned and returned to his work, this time sucking faster, bobbing his head swiftly on Crowley’s aching cock. Crowley clutched the angel’s hair in his fists, thrust up into Aziraphale’s hot, wet mouth and came hard, crying out in short, rhythmic gasps as he convulsed in pleasure. Aziraphale groaned happily in response and enthusiastically swallowed down Crowley’s semen as if it were warm honey. 

When Crowley ceased convulsing, and his cries slowed to gasps and then to deep breaths, Aziraphale crawled back up his body and took the loose, breathless demon into his arms. “Mmmm. Yes my darling” he cooed through his own breathlessness as he stroked Crowley’s hair and wrapped an arm tight around his waist. “That was beautiful. I love how you come. I love the feel of you shooting in my mouth”

Crowley wasn’t able to verbally respond, so he simply buried his face in Aziraphale’s neck and breathed deeply of the angel’s warm, sweet smell. 

“Please let me know when you feel ready to go again dearest. I still want to fuck you, remember?” He gave Crowley a vivid reminder of this little fact by thrusting his rock hard erection into Crowley’s hip.

Crowley, his body already reacting to Aziraphale’s words and movements, leaned back and looked up at Aziraphale with wide eyes. “Angel. You’ve changed. I seem to remember a shy, sweet principality that had to be convinced to take a tumble with me.” 

Aziraphale looked thoughtful for a moment. “Yes Crowley. I _have_ changed. Or rather, I have only changed on the _outside_. I spent a lot of time suppressing my need for you. I thought it was a sign of our ultimate undoing, so I kept a lot of it inside. I kept myself away from you. But now that we’re free, I want to give you everything now dearest.” He was absently stroking a hot hand up and down Crowley’s side, from his armpit to his hip and back as he spoke, and Crowley shivered under the angel’s lazy touch. 

“It won’t take long angel.” Crowley was half hard already, the feeling of Aziraphale’s thick warm body, pressed against his side, the slow drag of the angel’s fingertips against his skin was swiftly getting him aroused again. “Let me touch you?” he asked, leaning up to place a soft, little kiss against Aziraphale’s lips. 

In response, Aziraphale smiled wickedly, grabbed Crowley’s hands and pinned them above his head as he rolled on top of the demon. “Not yet.” he whispered, rolling his hips in a slow thrust down against Crowley’s now fully erect cock. “Not yet dearest”. 

Crowley whined high in the back of his throat and pushed up against the angel’s thick erection, still muffled as it was inside his trousers. “Oh fuck Aziraphale” He gasped out at the sudden pressure of the angel’s full weight on top of him. “I like it when you take control like this”.

“Good” Aziraphale replied, bending to press a hot kiss to the side of Crowley’s neck. “I like it too. I’ve been waiting a long time to show you this side of me.” He gripped both of Crowley’s wrists in one hand and snapped his clothing away with his free hand. Suddenly, there was a velvety soft, warm, naked angel on top of Crowley, and he moaned in response to the feeling of his skin on Aziraphale’s skin, of their stiff, hot, erections pressing together with nothing in between them any longer. Aziraphale began moving, rubbing them together with sparking friction that pulled a cry from Crowley’s lips. The angel growled, _growled_ in response and began lavishing Crowley’s neck with hot kisses, tonguing patterns into Crowley’s skin. Crowley feared he might lose his mind.

“You… you...mentioned something about fucking me?” he gasped out, barely able to speak from what Azirpahale’s clever lips and tongue were doing to his insides. The feel of their bodies moving together had him rock hard and aching deep inside. 

“So impatient. Is that a demon trait?” Aziraphale asked with a smile hiding in his voice. Then, he reached down and defly spread Crowley’s slender legs with one hand, still keeping the demon’s two hands pinned above his head with the other. _Dear Satan, he’s so strong_ Crowley’s passion drunk mind remembered that Aziraphale was once a soldier, a soldier who wielded a flaming sword in the First Great Battle. His strength was evident in the way he could pin and move and shift Crowley with barely any exertion at all. It was a fact that was easily forgotten when all he saw of Aziraphale was a shy, soft angel, holding a cup of chamomile tea while he read one of his beloved first editions in a comfy armchair. In truth though, Aziraphale had layers of solid muscle underneath his pleasing softness. He could probably snap Crowley like a twig… a thought that turned the demon on more than a little. 

Aziraphale brought his hand up to Crowley’s mouth. “Get my fingers nice and wet dearest, so I can open you up”. Crowley moaned at the sound of those words and immediately sucked two of Aziraphale’s thick fingers into his mouth, groaning at the feel of them, sliding between his lips, and the salty taste of the angel’s skin. Aziraphale, the bastard, began gently fucking Crowley’s mouth with his fingers, and whispered “That’s it darling. That’s it. Nice and wet so I can ease my way inside you.” 

Crowley almost wept when Azirpahale pulled his hand free. “Please angel… please let me suck your cock. _Please_ ”. Once he’d had a part of Aziraphale inside his mouth, he wanted more. Wanted to impale himself on the angel’s thick cock, to feel him thrusting into the back of Crowley’s throat.

“Not yet dearest.” Aziraphale said softly, rolling to the side a bit and reaching down between them to probe gently at Crowley’s tight opening. “Not yet. We have all night and the rest of our lives remember?”

Any response Crowley could have given was swallowed up by a low moan as Aziraphale slowly sank his fingers inside Crowley’s tight passage. “Oh _fuck_ ” the demon groaned. “Oh fuck angel. Yes. Fuck me with your fingers.”

Aziraphale complied, thrusting faster and deeper, twisting his fingers a bit in the process. Crowley arched up against his hand, pressing himself against those fingers in a desperate attempt to stimulate his prostate. He was making noises he hadn’t heard come out of his mouth before, rough cries and high pitched whines of pleasure as Aziraphale worked him open. 

“Please fuck me. Please angel. Please. I’m begging you.” he pleaded thrusting up against Aziraphale’s relentless fingers. 

Aziraphale took pity on him and let go of Crowley’s hands so that he could clamber up onto his knees between Crowley’s spread legs. He pulled his fingers from Crowley’s body and took himself in hand, giving himself a few swift strokes. Not that he needed them. Crowley could see that his cock was stiff and pink and that his soft scrotum was pulled up tight to his body. Sure signs that the angel was incredibly aroused. Aziraphale hoisted one of Crowley’s legs over his shoulder. “Are you ready dearest?” he had the gall to ask, his face innocent and expectant as he looked up into Crowley’s wide, yellow, lust filled eyes.

“If you don’t fuck me soon, I’ll die angel. Dear Satan, _get on with it_ ”

“So insistent” Aziraphale teased with a slow smile. He leaned forward and pressed the head of his stiff cock to Crowley’s now hot, slick arsehole and pushed gently. The head, and an inch of his shaft sank easily inside and Crowley gasped and gripped the angel’s thick forearms with desperate, shaking hands. 

“More” was all he was able to get out. “More angel. _More. Please._ ”

Aziraphale sank slowly inside Crowley to the hilt and both of them cried out at the feel of it. He rested there for a moment, filling Crowley completely, resting inside him patiently, breathless as he leaned down to deliver a soft kiss to Crowley’s parted lips. Then he pulled back and thrust in again, with a little force this time. Crowley hissed in pleasure. “Yesssss. Yes angel. Yes.”

“Do you want more Crowley darling?” Aziraphale’s voice shook slightly with the strain of holding himself back and Crowley loved the sound of it. Of that restraint and that breathless longing. 

“Fuck me hard angel. Give me everything you’ve got” he gritted out through clenched teeth. Aziraphale, seeming intent on torturing him, began thrusting slowly, pulling out and pressing back in with a steady rhythm. 

“Aw fuck angel. Faster. Fuck me faster. It won’t hurt me. You know I can take it. Fuck me harder.” Crowley illustrated his request by attempting to scoot his way down the bed and into Aziraphale’s maddeningly slow thrusts, trying to fuck himself on the angel’s cock. He pulled on Aziraphale’s forearms, then sat up slightly and gripped the angel’s thick hips in his hands, pulling on him, trying to get more of him inside. 

“Yes dearest. I will. I will. You feel so very good. You’re. So. Hot. And. So. Tight” The angel punctuated each word with a sharp snap of his hips, causing Crowley’s head to fall back and cries of pleasure to spill from his open mouth. Aziraphale leaned down, pressing his body into Crowley’s, wrapped his arms under Crowley’s shoulders and started fucking him in earnest. With every thrust, Crowley gasped in pleasure.

“Oh yeah. Oh fuck angel. Oh yes. Yes. You feel soo good. You’re fucking me so good. You’re gonna make me come so hard” he babbled into Aziraphale’s neck as the angel pounded him into the mattress with one sharp snap of his hips after another. The friction of their sweat slick bellies trapping Crowley’s cock between them was enough to push him swiftly to the edge of another orgasm. “I’m going to come soon angel” he gasped out. 

“I’m close too my darling. I can’t wait to spill inside you. I can’t wait to come so deep inside you. Inside your heat”. Aziraphale sped his thrusts further still and began gasping as his orgasm approached. Those sounds, the smell of Aziraphale, the feeling of the angel pounding into him, drove Crowley over the edge and he pulsed between them, twitching and shooting against the angel’s belly. He heard Aziraphale cry out, a strangled noise that stretched into a low groan as the angel’s thrusts slowed and became erratic. He felt the extra heat of the angel’s semen spilling inside him, and the extra slickness it provided to Aziraphale’s thrusts. 

“Oh fuck Crowley. Oh I love you so much” Azirphale groaned against Crowley’s neck. 

Crowley rode though it with him, bringing his hands from where they’d been gripping Azirpahale’s pumping hips up to grip the angel’s face. He kissed Aziraphale, a sloppy, messy, wild kiss, full of love and emotional abandon. “I love you too angel. I love you too” he whispered against Aziraphale’s open, panting mouth. 

Soon, Aziraphale collapsed on top of Crowley, burying his face in the demon’s neck, breathing hard. Crowley carded his fingers gently through the angle’s hair, marveling at the feel and the smell of him. He felt surrounded by warmth and love and he was full to the brim with oh-so-human love chemicals. Serotonin and oxytocin coursing through his veins. He’d never been happier. 

“Am I crushing you dearest? I know I’m rather heavy”. Aziraphale’s voice was muffled from his mouth being pressed against the side of the demon’s neck. He moved as if to roll off of Crowley, but Crowley gripped him by the shoulders and held him there.

“Stay.” He said. “Stay. I love your weight on me. I love feeling you all slick and wet inside me”.

“Mmmf. Alright then darling” Aziraphale mumbled, sounding sleepy and happy and wriggling a little against Crowley in a way that made Crowley’s body confusedly attempt to become aroused again, and then fail due to lack of energy. 

They must have fallen asleep, because Crowley came to an indeterminate time later. He moved slightly and wincing at the feel of dried semen and sticky sweat between their bodies, he quickly snapped his fingers, and they were both clean and dry. Aziraphale had shrunk and slipped out of Crowley, and so he rolled them both onto their sides and snuggled against Aziraphale’s warm body and felt the angel’s strong arms come around him to hold him close. 

“Where shall we go on our honeymoon?” he heard the angel ask, voice warm and sleepy. 

“Anywhere you want angel. Anywhere at all” Crowley smiled against Aziraphale’s shoulder.

“I was thinking…” Aziraphale lazily stroked his hand against Crowley’s low back in a way that made tingles spread out beneath his gentle fingertips. “I was thinking of renting a nice little cottage by the seashore for a few months? Perhaps somewhere in the South Downs?”

“A cottage it shall be then. Anything for my husband” Crowley pulled Aziraphale even closer, never wanting to let him go again. 

“Yes. Your husband” Aziraphale said quietly, just affirming, repeating, liking the sound of that word tripping off his sleepy, sex drunk tongue. “Husband,” he repeated softly. 

“Husband.. Yes.” Crowley responded in a whisper before drifting back off to sleep, safe and warm in the angel’s arms. 


End file.
